Fall Of Liberty
by Pollardinator
Summary: When a certain jade mask from the Old West is shipped to Liberty City,it awakens a nightmare not seen since the turn of the 20th Century. As the dead rise and the living become increasingly desperate to survive, Niko Bellic struggles to protect his family as martial law and armed gangs rule the streets and the city is quarantined and abandoned by the outside world.
1. Chapter 1- The Eye Of The Devil

**8****th**** April 2008**

**2:00pm the Ojo Del Diablo, the Atlantic Ocean **

The sea frothed and rolled around the edges of the rusted iron container ship as it ploughed through the storm, rain and sea spray battering the sides whilst lights from the ship swept the black ocean beyond.

The ship was the Ojo Del Diablo, a ship notorious for its use in black market deals including drug smuggling and gun running. Its current voyage was from the ports of the Deep South and Mexico up to Liberty City on the East Coast of the United States, carrying all manner of articles with everything from a shipment of Sprunk soft drinks to crates of illegal AK-47 assault rifles for the Liberty City arms market.

On the bridge, its captain, Juan Manteca stood, watching the rain lash against the windows whilst the other bridge staff hurried about their duties.

Lighting a thick cigar, the barrel chested captain turned to face his companion, and the only passenger not sweating down in the hold, Luis Cartes, a rat faced scrawny wreck in a crumpled white suit, rubbing his top lip as the captain spoke.

"Alright Luis, what do you want? If it weren't for the fact your employer would have my tongue cut out if I harmed you in any way, I would have had you thrown in the hold with the others hours ago."

Luis only grinned. As the cousin of feared Mexican drug lord Caesar Reyes, he was able to freeload as much as he wanted off any business deals Caesar's cartel made, including this one, which included free passage to Liberty City and a private room on the top deck, one of the few which didn't have the faint stench of vomit or blood in it. Juan couldn't stand him, and would be glad when the little man left his ship for good. All he had done for the last day was snort cocaine in his cabin and try to start fights with the crew whilst wasted on cheap booze.

"Nothing much captain, I just want a look down in the hold…"

Juan instantly shook his head.

"Out of the question, you dumb fuck. I'm not having you rile up my passengers. I'm being paid good money to ship them to Liberty City and the buyer doesn't want them messed up in any way."

Luis grinned.

"Nothing like that captain, I meant the other hold, where all the good stuff is..."

Juan sighed.

"As if I would let you go down there either. Most of that stuff is more valuable than the entire contents of the main hold. What do you need exactly? More crack to snort like a fucking anteater? If it's a cheap high you want go talk to the cooks in the galley."

"Not that captain, why would you think someone like me would stoop to that level? I wanted to see the er…artifacts."

As he said that he lowered his voice, stepping closer to the captain, so close that Juan could smell the stench of sweat and cheap cologne on the man's suit.

The captain knew exactly what the man was talking about. They had been contracted to ship a number of historical artifacts from the city of Escalera in the Nuevo Parisio province of Mexico, the base of operations for Caesar Reyes operation. They weren't exactly priceless, which would probably be the main reason Luis wanted a look at them. Most were just old clay pots and burial garments from Aztec tombs, as well as ancient weaponry and armour, bound for the Libertonian Museum's upcoming Aztec exhibit, and probably the only legal shipment on the whole ship. But then there was one article which Juan knew that Luis would want to see.

"It's the mask isn't it?" he said shortly, turning on Luis.

"No, no, course not…" Luis spluttered, his previous arrogance lost as the angry captain rounded on him, for a second a hand going to reach inside his jacket, before then raising both hands in a calming gesture.

"Look, I just want a quick check. Can't hurt can it?"

Juan stared at the man for a second, until the first mate interrupted the conversation from the helm.

"Captain, we're just coming into the city now. Probably about five minutes until we dock."

Juan nodded as the imposing form of the Statue of Happiness loomed up to their left, rain sliding off it in miniature waterfalls. The lights of a police boat swam alongside the mighty vessel, and a voice crackled over the radio.

"This is the Liberty City Harbour Authority, please supply all needed documentation for docking…"

Juan sighed.

"Keep that fucker talking." He said to the first mate. "Far as he knows, all we're transporting is those artifacts and a whole load of Sprunk…"

The first mate nodded and started speaking into the radio, whilst Juan turned to Luis.

"Alright, we're going to the hold. Might as well check everything else down there is all locked up tight. Don't want any customs _pendejo _finding Mr Ancelotti's arms shipment."

Two minutes later and the two men were clattering down the steel stairway to the hold, Luis fidgeting as they came to the main corridor between the two holds.

From behind the thick steel doors to the main hold could be heard low whispers and sounds of people crying ,as the immigrants from Mexico prepared to start their new lives in Liberty City. The other door, rusted and studded with old iron rivets, was opened by Juan and the two stepped into the cool confines of the cavernous room.

"Shit…" said Luis softly, giving a low whistle as he looked at the maze of crates beyond. "It's like that Indiana Jones film, but with real treasure…" he added with a sly grin which Juan ignored as he led the scrawny little man through the hold, past a black Presidente' car draped in a blue tarpaulin, and stopping to shut the lid of a crate filled with neat rows of white packages, replacing the straw over the top.

"Here it is…The mask you've been so desperate to see." He said as he grabbed a small redwood box from on top of a crate and handing it over to the other man, who was grinning from ear to ear.

"Xolotl be praised…" Luis muttered softly as he opened the box, the interior filled with soft red leather, and the green jade form of the mask.

Juan stood to one side, not looking at the other man as he pored over the mask, every so often saying the word 'Xolotl' and giggling slightly.

"Ok,let's see if it still works…" Luis said softly, and that's when Juan turned around, not wanting to get one of his most valuable shipments broken by this spoilt little freeloader.

"Look…" he began, then stopped instantly when he saw Luis looking right at him, the mask in one hand, and in the other a chrome plated Desert Eagle ,pointed directly at Juan's face.

Juan felt his blood chill as he looked at the man before him, who seemed to have almost completely changed. Gone was the hazed, spaced out look in his brown eyes, replaced by a sharp intelligenece, whilist he stood much straighter, having lost his hunched, subservient posture.

It took the captain a second to realise that he had been conned, and by a master at that.

"But…" he began, but was cut off as Luis fired, hitting the captain in the chest, who instantly fell to his knees.

"As I was saying…" Luis was saying, but the captain barely heard him, as his vision already began to fade. The last thing he saw was Luis advancing towards him.

"Let's see if this works." He finished, as he placed the mask on the dying captain's face.

A few minutes later, and Luis was finishing the last dregs of the dead captain's cigar. He stopped when he heard a low moan from the direction of the captain's corpse, and the clatter of the jade mask falling to the steel floor.

Drawing his pistol, he watched the captain's body begin to move slightly and, with one last glance at the open door to the rest of the ship, placed the Desert Eagle to his forehead.

"Xolotl be praised." He said softly, and blew his brains out.

* * *

A few hours later and the container ship sat in a bay of the Broker harbour, where it had been dragged by two rusted tug boats after it was spotted drifting by a NOOSE helicopter on a night patrol.

With a squeal of sirens and roar of engines, three white LCPD cruisers screamed into the empty shipyard, their occupants spilling out and standing, looking up at the silent ship.

The group's leader, Sergeant Boyd, a veteran officer, albeit an overweight one, stepped out of his cruiser, hefting his Ithaca 37 Stakeout shotgun.

"Alright boys, control wants us to check this ship over. Move in and search the area!" he bellowed.

As the others clattered on board, guns drawn, his partner, Officer Higgins, stepped out of the car and looked up at the Ojo Del Diablo, a frown on his face.

"Why we here Boyd?" he said, checking his Glock pistol as the sergeant gave him a withering look.

"Look Jack, we got told by control to check this shitpile, so we're going to do that, ok?"

He grinned as they walked towards the gangplank.

"What were you expecting? A fuckin' NOOSE team?"

Higgins sighed as they clattered across the empty deck.

"Isn't this a job for those 'Patriotism and Immigration' guys?"

The sergeant only sneered as they entered the empty galley.

"Look, all I have to say is…Jesus!" he screamed as he spotted the bloody corpse between two trashed plastic chairs.

"Holy fuck…" Higgins said softly as he crouched down by the corpse. "It ain't been shot or anything either…"

"Why the fuck would that matter?" Boyd snarled his face pale as he nervously hefted his shotgun.

With a sigh Higgins turned to him.

"Well it actually looks like this sorry bastard was…well, eaten."

But, as he pored over the bite marks all across the pale corpse, Higgins noticed the sergeant examining a huge blood stain on the floor, leading towards an open door, covered in bullet holes.

Standing up, the officer looked at the holes, whilist his superior glanced down the gloomy staircase.

"Hmm, looks like AK bullets to me…" he said thoughtfully, then turned to the sergeant.

"Find anything?"

"Just the way to the hold…God it stinks down there." He added, wafting at the air with his free hand.

Without a word Higgins drew his pistol and slowly made his way down the stairs.

"What the…Are you really going down there boy?" Boyd spluttered then, with a resigned sigh, followed the officer down into the darkness.

He found Higgins's poring over the metal doors to the main hold, a desk thrown in front to make a crude barricade.

"Help me shift this will you?" he said as the sergeant stumbled over.

As the two officers hefted the heavy desk to one side, Higgins said thoughtfully.

"You know, we should probably radio this in now, call for backup…"

"Like hell we will." Boyd laughed as they moved the table away and set it down. "If this is going on Weazel News, I want to be the guy who that sexy Jenny Acorn interviews." He added with a lecherous grin.

Higgins sighed as he pulled the heavy doors open, and then felt a slight twinge of disappointment.

"Huh, it's empty…"

Then he noticed the figures shuffling out of the darkness.

"Ok, please remain calm." He ordered. "LCPD! We do not…"

Those were the man's last words as the horde engulfed him.


	2. Chapter 2- Hangover from Hell

**8****th**** April 2008**

**10:00am Broker, Liberty City**

The bedside alarm clock chime cut into Niko Bellic's head like a knife, its piercing whine more painful than any kind of torture his enemies had ever doled out to him.

Ignoring it, Niko sat in darkness, not even bothering to open his eyes for now, knowing the bright sunlight streaming into his apartment would be more blinding than a flash bang grenade being detonated in his face. Outside he could hear the familiar sounds of Liberty City. The squeal of car tyres, wail of police sirens, shouts of manic 'prophets' on the street corner. Then he heard the screams and the sound of someone hammering on his door.

"Fuck me..." he muttered as, in one smooth movement, he opened his eyes and grabbed the Desert Eagle pistol from his bedside cabinet, flicking off the safety and aiming it in front of him.

The sunlight was excruciatingly bright, and his eyes were barely open as he staggered across the room, dressed in the sweat stained suit he had been wearing last night, the heavy pistol a dead weight in his hands.

"What do you…!" he began as he practically fell down the stairs, but then he heard an even more ear piercing scream and the knocks on the door became even more persistent.

"Man, today is not the day to have a monster hangover…" he muttered to himself as he began to unlock the door, stowing the pistol in his jacket pocket before slowly pulling the door open.

Next thing he knew he was being roughly shoved aside, the door slammed shut behind him and a figure was pounding up the stairs to the main room.

"Little fucker!" Niko roared, sprinting after the intruder and tackling them in his dingy kitchen, smashing them into the cracked tiles and drawing his gun, rolling them over to show the face of…

"Roman?"

Roman only whimpered and Niko couldn't help grinning.

"Let me guess, you want to go bowling?"

* * *

A few minutes later and Roman was sat on Niko's unmade bed, pale faced as he drank from an ice cold bottle of Sprunk from the fridge.

"I er…have to say I like what you did with the place…Got it all back to normal after the fire." He said nervously, as Niko paced up and down on the stained carpet, pistol in hand.

"Look Roman…" he said finally. "What do you want? And why were you smashing my door in like a fucking…"

"Zombies, just zombies cousin…"

Niko straightened up, and then fell into the threadbare armchair by the bed, flicking the safety on his gun, taking the magazine out then laying it on the table before saying softly.

"Really Roman? You expect me to believe that?"

Roman sighed and Niko saw his cousin look as mentally scarred, if not more so, than when he had been kidnapped. Then he knew things were serious.

"What happened?" he said, slightly softer.

"I was…look you remember last night?"

Niko nodded. He remembered the crazed drunken bender they had been on last night, tearing around Algonquin in Niko's orange Infernus with Brucie sandwiched between them, after being thrown out of the Maisonette nightclub by a stern faced Dominican bouncer. Niko barely remembered how he had got back home, only that his car was somewhere in Broker, probably in a ditch somewhere.

"Of course."

Roman took a deep breath, and then finally spoke, as if disclosing a dark secret.

"Well I was just walking, ok staggering, home when I saw this guy walking towards me, turned out to be a cop so I tried to straighten up, gave him a smile…and then, well he lunged at me, all pale and moaning, tried to take a bite out of me!"

"And then?" Niko said with a tired frown.

"Well I fucking ran cousin! Hid in a dumpster for a few hours, then ran over here after one of those things started chasing me!"

Niko grinned.

"That would explain the smell…"

"Quit it with the jokes cousin! There's zombies outside and you're just joking around!"

Niko's voice lowered as Roman finished his rant.

"Ok Roman, whats it like out there?"

Roman shrugged.

"Streets are pretty empty. Saw a few cars further down, there's a ton of police and NOOSE vehicles heading to the port. There was a helicopter a few minutes ago."

Niko started towards the door.

"Alright I'm just going to…"

Instantly Roman was out of his seat and shouting.

"Cousin no! One of …them, is out there!"

Niko laughed and was about to open the door when he heard it. A fist pounding on the door, then a low moan.

"Is it?" he began, and Roman only nodded slowly from the top of the stairs.

With a sigh Niko drew his pistol and stood by the door, ready to throw it open.

Nodding at Roman, he hurled the door open, grabbed hold of the moaning assailant in front of him, rammed his pistol into its mouth and fired.

Kicking the corpse into the gutter outside, Niko casually wiped the blood off his gun and stepped into the cool morning air.

The street was, as Roman had said, practically empty, only a few pedestrians hurrying past the police station further up the street, whilst a red Lincoln car sat, abandoned, outside the Comrades Bar across the street.

Roman emerged a minute later, wincing at the whir of a helicopter nearby, then practically leaping into Niko's arms as a black Annihilator soared low overhead, a squad of NOOSE snipers leaning out the sides.

"Ok, what the fuck do we do now?" Roman wailed, noticing a few corpses lying in the street nearby, but Niko wasn't listening as he dialled a number on his phone and held it to his ear.

"Jacob, its Niko here." He said with a grin. "I need to get a hold of some weaponry.


	3. Chapter 3-The Good,the Bad and the Rasta

**8****th**** April 2008**

**12:00pm Broker, Liberty City**

The streets outside remained quiet for the next hour as Niko sat by the window, his Desert Eagle out, breathing slowly and staying as quiet as possible. Roman on the other hand was a complete contrast, sprawled on a chair in the tiny kitchen, drumming on the cracked worktop with his fingers, drinking a cold coffee in trembling fingers.

"What are we going to do cousin?" Roman said softly. "I don't know what the fuck Mallorie's up to at the moment. She could have a whole horde of those things outside coming down on her! And what about us eh? Are we just going to sit here until…?"

"Look just shut up!" Niko snapped. "Jacob should be here in a few minutes. I'm surprised he hasn't come already but the roads outside are probably all cramped with all kinds of shit.I mean, normal traffics a bitch already without zombies wandering around!"

Roman seemed silenced for a second, then animated as they heard footsteps in the streets below.

Gazing out the cracked window Niko saw a figure stumble through the street, clutching their sides, blood staining the unmistakeable midnight blue of a police uniform.

"Shit, it's a cop…" Niko said softly.

"Shouldn't we be helping him?"

Niko laughed humourlessly.

"Really man? I doubt he's going to last long anyway…" he added coldly. "We take care of our own, Roman. Noone else."

Roman nodded, pale faced. This man was too gentle for the hell that was Liberty City.

Watching the figure below, Niko watched their posture slowly change before, with a retching vomit, he fell to the floor and began to convulse.

"What the…"

He never finished his comment as the wounded cop outside staggered to his feet, looked straight up at him and let out a feral snarl.

"Ah shit… Check the door Roman." He snapped, checking his Desert Eagle as the newly risen zombie started to move down the street in the direction of their house.

The undead had barely taken another step before there was the dull crack of a rifle and it collapsed, its head a mess of blood and brain matter.

Then, slowly cruising up the hill, lights blazing out, a white LCPD police cruiser came around the corner, an officer with an M4 carbine leaning out the side window, the driver shouting out orders over the radio.

"This is LCPD!" the distorted voice garbled out. "Please remain in your homes. Police and NOOSE units are in the area for your safety. Remain calm and lock your doors until told otherwise. Failure to comply will…"

Niko sighed.

"Fuckin cops."

Roman winced.

"So when is Jacob getting here? We need to get out of this crummy apartment before any more of those…"

Niko sighed again and stood up, stowing his gun in his jacket and drawing his cheap black mobile phone, keying in Jacob's number with annoyed stabs of his fingers.

"Jacob?" he said in a hard tone. He wasn't going to take anymore crap today. His friend however, answered instantly in an upbeat tone.

"Wagwan Niko ma bredrin" Jacob said from the other end with a laugh, the roar of his beaten up Emperor echoing in the background.

"Where are you Jacob?"

Jacob laughed again.

"Almost there Niko ma friend .There's police all over mon, had to take de back routes… I be a few minutes away, speak to you when I get there."

Jacob ended the call and Niko glanced over to Roman, who had seated himself back at the kitchen table, absently checking his phone.

"Anything from Mallorie?" Niko asked, his voice softening slightly. His cousin was obviously quite shaken up and Niko knew that, although he was tougher than he let on, Roman was in bad shape. Once Jacob arrived with the guns he didn't really know what they were going to do. Nothing he had ever done before, no matter how violent or crazy, could have prepared him for the madness that he knew would soon descend upon this city.

Listening to the sounds of the city outside, Niko felt a distinct change all around. Gone was the familiar drone of traffic and babble of pedestrians, replaced by the distant wail of police sirens and whir of helicopters, whilist car horns blared out from the highway beyond.

As he stepped across the room his phone buzzed in his hand and Niko checked it to find a hastily done text from Jacob.

"What's he say?"

"He's almost here…" Niko replied moving towards the door.

Instantly Roman grabbed his arm.

"You can't go out there cousin!"

Niko smirked and shook him off.

"Look, once we get those guns from Jacob, no zombie fuck will even think of going near us…"

As if to prove his point Niko drew his pistol and pulled back the slide then, with one last grin at Roman, pushed the door open and stepped into the street again.

It was the same as before, although a few more cars were abandoned by the side of the street and the dark outlines of crumpled bodies lay in the gutter by the rundown Russian clothes shop, two burly men in leather jackets with compact Uzi submachine guns stood outside, only glancing in the direction of Niko and Roman before lighting up cigarettes and staring up the street.

Wincing at the bright sunlight, Niko could just pick out Jacob's red Emperor sat in a gloomy alleyway across the street by the old Comrades Bar. Nodding towards it he purposefully strode across the street, keeping an eye out for both zombies and police, both hands on his pistol. Roman scuttled behind him, jumping as sirens wailed in the distance.

They reached the alleyway without incident and were greeted by Jacob, an AK-47 in hand, who casually took a drag on a joint and greeted them.

"Wagwan Niko, Roman!" he declared jovially. "Heard you were in the mood for weapons?"

Niko grinned.

"How's things out there man?"

Jacob shrugged as he opened the car boot and Niko quickly started picking out items from the cache of weaponry on display.

"Nothin much mon. Cops all over by the port, there were some NOOSE guys heading out to Charge Island when I left. Loads of people trying to get to Bohan and the airport. Roads are packed that way, it's crazy…"

Niko nodded as he selected an AK from the boot and pulled back the charging handle, checking the sights before throwing a Glock pistol over to Roman, who caught it awkwardly with both hands.

"Any er…zombies?" Niko said in a low voice.

Jacob nodded solemnly.

"There were a whole group of em out by the old Cluckin Bell tearing into some poor guy till the cops put em down. Saw a few others wandering around the back roads."

Roman appeared next to Niko, wincing at the sound of helicopter blades nearby.

"Cousin are you…?"

At that point he was interrupted by the whir of a helicopter and scream of police sirens as a spotlight blazed down on them, completely unnecessarily considering it was midday, but Niko knew LCPD weren't known for their intelligence.

Regardless though he felt his blood chill as two police cruisers screamed up in a blaze of sirens and light, four officers with M4s bailing out and running toward them.

"Drop the weapons!" ordered one of them, smacking Niko to the ground with the butt of his rifle and slammed a pair of handcuffs on him.

"You are under arrest bitches!" declared another as he shoved Jacob into the side of his car with an audible bang. "Breaking curfew and gun running?" he added with a laugh. "Looks like you're not getting out for a long time!"

Niko sighed, then felt fear claw at him as, beyond the sound of the helicopter overhead and the police sirens he heard something else.

The low moans of approaching undead, getting louder.


	4. Chapter 4- Streets Of the Dead

**8****th**** April 2008**

**1:30pm Broker, Liberty City**

The police cruiser tore through the streets, sirens blaring as Niko and the others sat dejectedly in the back, cuffs digging into their hands.

Up ahead the two police officers were arguing about something, and Niko leaned forward slightly to hear their whispered comments.

"I can't raise the station on the radio." The driver hissed, glancing momentarily out of the window as they drove past the local police station at the end of the empty street, suspiciously quiet for the beginning of an undead plague.

"Look…" the other one replied, nervously checking the M4 carbine in his lap. "The sergeant said the cells were all full from that raid last night on the Albanians warehouse. Those fucking biker types are going to be screaming the place down now so we should just leave the guys there to it and drop these thugs off at the station in South Slopes."

The other nodded as the police helicopter overhead flew past with a dull whir and away.

"Damn flyboys." The driver said with a nervous grin. "Wish we were safe up there rather than down here…"

Niko leaned back in his seat. Those two weren't going to be saying anything remotely useful for a while, and they had some time until they reached the police station in South Slopes. Perfect time to plan their escape.

Roman was going to be no real help as he now sat with his head in his hands, whilist Jacob was asleep after obviously having a few too many joints on the way over.

Looking outside Niko saw only empty streets, a few people hurrying past with bags and boxes, trying to stay hidden as the two police cruiser rushed past. The police car in front was going at breakneck speed for some reason, and he simply put in down to the police getting jumpy about the zombies he had seen so little of in the past few hours.

If it hadn't been for the one outside his apartment a few hours ago, or the wounded police officer turning right in the middle of the street, Niko would have put it all down to the drink and Roman's babbling. To be honest, even if there were zombies out there somewhere, they hadn't really put in an appearance.

But then the radio up front crackled into life, and his face paled as its message crackled out.

"This is control. We have reports of a public disturbance in the Hove Beach area. Multiple firearm discharges. All available units please respond."

The driver was about to respond when they turned the corner and watched the car up front slam into a van abandoned in the street, the two officers bailing out as the second cruiser stopped.

"Wait here Stevens." The officer in the front seat said to the driver and stepped out, M4 in hand.

The driver turned in his seat to face Niko and the others.

"Ok, nothing to worry about ladies. Just a little accident. Not like…"

Niko shushed him and nodded to the view up front.

By the crashed police cruiser the three officers were examining the damage but, as one went to check the street in front, a figure stumbled forward and grabbed him by the arm.

With a shout the officer attempted to push him away, breaking the other man's grip and drawing his pistol. But then, with an inhuman howl, the attacker lunged forward, biting into the officer's neck.

"Holy shit…" the driver said softly but Niko barely heard him as he watched four more figures, obviously undead judging by their shambling gait and vacant expressions, appear from behind the van and fall upon the stricken officer, pulling him to the ground and surrounding him.

The driver went to open the door.

"No." Niko said bluntly and, to his surprise, the young officer stopped. "Lock the doors. We are not getting eaten because you want to play hero."

"Those are my buddies!"

"Just do what I say man!" Niko snapped. "I'm trying to help you here. Plus you're the only guy with the keys to these handcuffs."

The officer shrugged and threw him the handcuff keys, grabbed his M4 from the rack behind and stepped outside, levelling his rifle as he ran to aid his comrades.

"He's dead…" Niko said bluntly as he quickly unlocked everyone's handcuffs and looked up front.

The three remaining officers fired into the approaching undead, but the hasty body shots did little to slow the undead as they fell upon one of them and pulled him down as he howled in agony. Instantly the other two fired into the mob, one falling from a lucky headshot.

Glancing at his pistol in surprise as the zombie fell to his fortunate aim, the second officer was soon torn to shreds by the other undead and the last one ran back toward the car, firing his assault rifle on full automatic, taking down a few of the horde before he was tackled and slammed onto the bonnet, looking at the shocked passengers for a second before his chest was torn open by a fat zombie in a chequered shirt.

"Go go!" Roman cried flattening himself against the back window as Niko threw himself into the driver's seat, putting the car into reverse and sending them screaming back with a squeal of tyres. Silently thanking the dead driver for leaving the engine running, Niko brought them around in a wide circle, almost slamming into a glass shop front, as the zombies still clinging on rolled into the gutter.

"Step on it mon!" Jacob called from the back. "Dere be more comin!"

Trying to keep control of the unresponsive vehicle he sent the car forwards the opposite way, swerving to avoid more undead shambling out of a gloomy alleyway beyond.

As they sped along Niko kept a close eye on the road, smoke rising on the horizon from the direction of Dukes, whilst sirens echoed from a few streets down.

"What now?" Jacob said softly, keeping an eye out as they passed two cars abandoned in the street, smoke rising from their still forms.

Ignoring the question Niko continued watching the road.

"Where's Mallorie, cousin?" he said after a pause.

Roman was pale, but the mention of his wife seemed to make him sit up slightly straighter in his seat and he replied, in a voice more confident than before.

"Our apartment in Algonquin." He said simply.

Niko nodded and set the vehicle speeding on through the empty streets, passing the South Slopes police station, a large crowd of people gathered outside the entrance, pushing at four police officers nervously raising their rifles as the mob pushed forward.

"Zombies?"

Turning in his seat, Niko sighed.

"Worse. Libertonians…"

He was about to say something else when Roman suddenly pointed straight in front of them.

"Niko! Truck!"

Niko barely had time to glance around before a huge eighteen wheeler lorry roared along the junction they were speeding into and he spun the wheel in a mad arc, sending the car plunging into a parked Patriot 4x4, crumpling the bonnet. As his head slammed into the steering wheel, Niko heard Roman's voice, but it seemed like it was in the distance, and he looked, through bleary eyes out the side windscreen.

That's when he saw the undead face looking back at him.

The creature stumbled from the open door of a nearby bar, its grey face splattered with blood as it staggered toward him, moaning in a low voice.

"Ah fuck…" he said softly before the zombie clambered onto the bonnet, dead eyes staring straight at him.

Desperately scrabbling around the front of the car for a weapon, he couldn't see anything, and Roman and Jacob weren't going to be any help. Both were still dazed from the crash and only stared blankly into the middle distance.

Eyes darting around the wrecked car, Niko could only watch the zombie slam its fists into the windscreen, the glass starting to break under its blunt attack. Then he saw a glint of metal in the foot well of the front seat.

Diving down he grabbed the object.

"Fuck yes." He sighed as he balanced the pistol in both hands and aimed it at the blank faced zombie as the glass finally broke.

Without another thought he fired, the first bullet slamming into the zombie's head with a dull bang, spraying blood over the cracked windscreen as it fell across the bonnet, trailing crimson and out of sight.

Kicking open the door Niko fired into the undead's head again and again until it was nothing but paste and the chamber was empty.

Jacob and Roman spilled out of the car but Niko ignored them for now and walked to the closed boot, shooting off the lock and reaching inside.

"Now we be talkin…" Jacob said with a grin as Niko threw him a heavy pump action shotgun, then a pistol for Roman, which he handled with surprising familiarity as he slammed the magazine in and pulled back the slide.

"As I said mon, what we gonna do now?"

Niko grinned as he drew another shotgun from the boot, loaded eight shells into it and pumped it.

"Now Jacob? Now we go save Mallorie…"


	5. Chapter 5- Shock and Awe

**8****th**** April 2008**

**3:00pm Broker, Liberty City**

The zombie's head exploded in a burst of red and grey as the shotgun shell blew it apart. Standing a few metres away, Niko pumped his weapon and ran on down the empty street around abandoned cars which sat, doors open, corpses lying around them.

"Fresh bullet wounds." Jacob said simply as he examined a body in a leather jacket spread eagled across the bonnet of a black Lincoln. "All to de head. One shot each."

"Meaning?" Niko said with a raised eyebrow from ahead.

"We need to be on our guard if we see any cops." Roman said from behind, wincing slightly at the stench of the bodies around them.

"Wait up!" Niko hissed, holding up a fist and the others clattered to a halt.

The two men gave him looks of surprise but Niko ignored them and said simply.

"There's someone in that alley up there…"

* * *

They emerged into the alleyway a few moments later, weapons raised, as the dull bang of a gunshot pierced the silence from up ahead.

Breaking into a run Niko sprinted around the corner, to be confronted by a figure dressed in white.

He was Mexican ,whoever he was, dressed in a white suit and black shirt with handsome tanned skin, now a lot paler than he should have been .But it was the blood patch on his immaculate clothing, and the Desert Eagle in his trembling hands, that Niko took notice of.

"Shit how many people have that gun in this city…" he muttered to himself with a grin, but then the Mexican spoke.

"Quiet fool, and drop your weapon…" he snapped, and Niko slowly complied, placing his shotgun on the tarmac in front of him.

"Who the fuck are you?" he said softly. "And more importantly, where did you get that wound?"

"Police shot me at a roadblock a few streets down…" the Mexican said with a weak smile, but Niko didn't believe a word he was saying. Something about this man just didn't seem right.

"Why you so pale then?"

The Mexican grinned.

"You know ,shitty Liberty City weather and all…"

He stopped as they both heard Jacob and Roman's voices, coming slowly closer.

"Shit." The Mexican said. "I really wanted to make a bit more of my last conversation…"

"Last conversation?" Niko muttered in bemusement as the Mexican came stumbling toward him.

"Well the plague of Xolotl isn't exactly…easy to bear."

"Who the fuck…" Niko said, backing away slowly.

"Xolotl the cleanser…" The Mexican babbled. "The Aztec god of death and the bringer of this blight upon this city of the damned."

By now the man appeared to be on his last legs as he shambled closer, and Niko felt his hair stand on end as the man began to convulse and moan.

He was a metre away now, teeth bared but life still in his eyes.

"I will pass the plague to you friend. The gift of almighty Xolotl!" the Mexican said one final time before lunging forward.

At that point Niko grabbed the writhing soon to be undead by his jacket and drew his pistol, shoving it into his face.

"If you see Xolotol on the other side…" he hissed as he pulled the trigger and blew the man's brains out. "Tell him…fuck him and all his little followers!"

* * *

Roman and Jacob emerged into the alleyway, guns drawn, as Niko crouched by the body, pulling the chrome Desert Eagle from the corpse's lifeless hands and throwing away the empty Glock he had executed the man with.

"What the…" Roman began but his cousin cut him off as he stood up and retrieved his shotgun.

"Just some punk trying to rob me." He said firmly before looking up at the two others.

For a second he paused, taking in a deep breath.

Then he saw the walker shambling towards a defenceless woman in the street outside.

* * *

"Fuck, run you stupid bitch!" Roman shouted at the woman, but she only gave him a stern look before gazing back at the undead stumbling towards her, drenched in blood, across the empty street.

"Simon!" she shrieked happily. "I thought you were dead! I thought the police killed you when that car ran you over!"

"Dumb fuck." Niko said simply as he walked up behind the zombie and pulled back the slide on the bulky Desert Eagle.

"No what are you…?" the woman began but the gangster ignored her as he placed the gun to the zombie's head and fired ,the dull bang of the pistol echoing across the street as the corpse fell to the ground with a wet smack.

"He was a…"

"Bastard!" the woman screeched and ran at them, fists balled up, until Niko calmly aimed his gun at her head and she stopped, tears of rage in her eyes.

"Just shut up you stupid bitch! We just save your life and you…"

He was interrupted by the whir of helicopter blades overhead, and three black NOOSE Annihilators thundered low overhead.

Turning away from the woman in hysterics before him Niko turned to the others.

"Ok we need to move now and hopefully we can get to Algonquin before the police start clearing the streets with shit more powerful than assault rifles…"

The three weary men stumbled onto the next street, still empty like the others, except for a parked police cruiser and three ambulances, paramedics loading body bags on stretchers into the backs of the vehicles as the flashing blue and red lights blinked out onto the tarmac around.

The two armed police officers only flashed them a quick look of surprise before returning to watching the street beyond, shotguns raised.

"Ok we need a car…" Roman said firmly and the others nodded and began checking abandoned vehicles as sporadic gunfire echoed in the distance. "We go across the East Borough Bridge and then it's a straight shot along the main roads to my place."

"That's if there aren't any roadblocks on the bridges…" Niko muttered.

"Look cousin we need to worry more about the zombies than the fucking LCPD!" his cousin roared slightly too loudly, as the two officers across the street glanced in their direction nervously.

With that Roman cursed under his breath and wandered ahead, checking car doors as he went and swearing softly every time he was met with a dull thunk.

"Amateur…" Jacob said with a grin and lit a joint, offering one to Niko who shook his head. He would need a clear mind if this shit was going to carry on for much longer. Already he found his mind drifting back to the words of the Mexican in the alleyway, the member of the so called 'cult of Xolotl'. He didn't for a second believe that this was the wrath of an Aztec god but the fact the unhinged stranger had claimed that he or his cult had somehow had a part in this plague. That was a thought more scary than any ancient god.

He kept these thoughts in his mind as he checked over a white Landstalker 4x4 with tinted windows.

"Seems alright." Jacob observed from nearby as he shouldered his shotgun.

Niko rolled his eyes. Before all this he wouldn't have been seen dead in this soccer mom piece of crap. But needs must when the dead rise up, he thought to himself.

"We'll take it." He said simply and Jacob grinned as he hefted his shotgun and smashed in the window, reaching inside to open the door.

"Hey!" one of the nearby police officers called and Niko turned, gun raised and walked towards the two men, the paramedics by the ambulances looking on with a mixture of ear and amusement.

"What the fuck do you want copper?" Niko said as the two officers shrunk back from him. "Gonna arrest us? Try anything and I put a shell in you!" he added with a threatening wave of his shotgun.

But the lead officer, a tired and pale faced sergeant, only raised a hand in a placatory gesture.

"Look calm down man." He said with a weary smile. "Take the car. We don't care so long as you take down a few of those undead bastards on your way out. Oh and don't torch anything of course. It's not like society is crumbling or anything…"

Niko lowered his gun.

"So what exactly are your orders regarding this whole plague then?" he said with a raised eyebrow. "Because last load of police we saw almost got us killed…"

The sergeant shrugged.

"We lost contact with the station in South Slopes about half an hour ago so we're not really going on any orders but killing those undead things out on the streets…"

"And the body bags?"

"One of the few orders we had before the station was overrun was to bring a few undead we killed to one of the hospitals so they could do some tests and find out what the fuck we're fighting…"

The sergeant sighed and was about to say something else when a shout came up from the paramedics behind.

"Ah shit." The sergeant said simply as the two men watched the body bags sitting up from the stretchers and the paramedics stepping back in horror.

"You did shoot them in the head didn't you?" Niko asked as he backed away. "That's how they always kill zombies in those shitty horror stories…"

The sergeant's face paled.

"Thanks man…Now get the fuck out of here before more of them come…"

And with that both men ran in opposite directions, the sergeant pumping his shotgun as he ran back towards the ambulances, whilst Niko ran towards the now hotwired Landstalker which Jacob had taken ownership of. Jumping into the backseat and earning a concerned glance from Roman up front, he only shouted at Jacob to drive before sitting up.

"We go now…" he said simply as they sped down the road.

* * *

A few minutes later and they were stuck in traffic, a direct contrast to the empty streets they had seen before. All along the approach to the Broker side of the East Borough Bridge stretched one continuous line of vehicles slammed bumper to bumper, armed police officers standing by barriers and parked cruisers with lights blazing out at intervals, whilst horns and angry threats from drivers pierced the afternoon quiet.

"Fuck mon!" Jacob cursed and slammed his fist on the wheel in frustration. "How we be gettin through dat now!"

Niko stared ahead at the line of stalled traffic then turned to the two up front.

"Wait here." He said firmly. "And hide the guns…"

And with that he stepped out of the car, slammed the door shut and walked along the road, pushing through the huge crowd all moving slowly forwards alongside the unmoving vehicles.

It was only when he reached the end of the road and the beginning of the bridge itself that he saw the extent of the holdup.

As the ugly concrete form of the bridge stretched outward and around to Charge Island, so too did the blocks of traffic, whilst the lines of people continued on in a unbroken snake around to the Charge Island toll booth system, now resembling a military checkpoint complete with barbed wire, sandbags, armoured trucks and…

"Fucking tanks…"

They sat by the police blockade, two of them, black armoured forms facing out onto the crowds beyond, who shouted at the thin line of LCPD officers in riot gear.

Shielding his eyes from the sun Niko watched the scene unfold beyond, as a police Maverick helicopter hovered low, snipers leaning out of the sides with weapons at the ready.

"Please disperse!" came the garbled voice of a police captain standing atop an armoured NOOSE Patriot, submachine gun in hand.

The crowd shouted something incomprehensible, but, whatever it was, Niko saw the riot police nervously step back, and the police captain fired a brief burst from his weapon into the air as a warning shot.

"Stay back! Right now!" he ordered and yet the people before him didn't move, only pushed even harder against the police holding them back.

Then Niko picked out the figure of a single man, dressed in a white suit and black shirt, draw a large pistol from his belt in the midst of the crowd, and aim it at the closest police officer.

"Mother…" Niko began, but his curse was lost as the dull roar of the gun going off echoed across the harbour.

For a second there was a weird pause as one of the riot police fell back, a bullet in his skull.

Then everything fell apart.

The officers standing on the roof of the checkpoint with assault rifles, along with heavily armed NOOSE soldiers at the barricade, all raised their weapons and, ignoring the screams of the crowd before them, fired.

The entire crowd around Niko crouched low, despite the fact they were hundreds of metres from the barricade, whilst the mob at the checkpoint, far from running or surrendering, rushed the police line. As the crack of high powered rifles from the helicopter overhead filled the air, Niko watched in horror as, with a dull roar, the two tanks opened fire.

The effect was instantaneous as the high powered shells, probably illegal in other countries, tore the crowd apart. Even from Niko's vantage point he could see the bursts of crimson as people were torn apart, along with the screams and harsh thud as tear gas canisters fell into the dead and dying, hiding the slaughter momentarily. The gas cleared for a second as the helicopter hovered low, broadcasting its message even as the officers leaning out the side fired indiscriminately.

"Disperse now or we shall continue to use lethal force! I repeat, disperse now or we shall…"

Although the reckless police brutality was almost to be expected from LCPD, even to this horrific level, Niko would never have expected what happened next.

He saw it approaching from the corner of his eye, but dismissed it as nothing until finally the plume of smoke he had been watching revealed itself as a sleek silver object, a tongue of smoke and flame erupting from its back.

"Missile!" someone further down the bridge screamed before, with a whoosh of fire, it struck the police helicopter in a blast of orange, its burning hulk falling to earth.

The next few second were complete chaos as all around people fell over each other, police officers in riot gear swept aside like ants by the crowds running in all directions, cars flipped on their sides as people rushed past in their haste to escape.

Only Niko stayed exactly where he was, and only he had a clear view as three silver shapes screamed low over the river, releasing more missiles which struck the bridge and checkpoint simultaneously, a whole section literally blasted apart in a deafening explosion, sending police cruisers, ragged corpses and slabs of concrete flying in all directions.

It was only when the torrent of black smoke began to slowly clear, and the silver shapes came around for another pass that he saw their true form revealed and his eyes widened in horror.

As they whooshed past, he could see their sleek forms to be F16 fighter jets, and the USAF symbols emblazoned on their wings.


	6. Chapter 6- Acceptable Losses

**8****th**** April 2008**

**6:00pm Algonquin, Liberty City**

The black limousine powered through the heavy Algonquin traffic, its escorts, two of the LCPD's new 'Stinger' blue patrol vehicles clearing the congestion as they drove forward. Overhead a police Maverick followed their every move from above, its snipers keeping watch.

Inside the limo's luxurious interior, pale faced and absently puffing on a cigar, newly promoted LCPD Commissioner Francis Mcreary sat, watching the streets outside, his personal assistant, a young blonde woman he had promoted to the position for no reason other than his last secretary had been ugly as sin and he wanted a change, was across from him, frantically digging through a briefcase full of papers.

He ignored her and looked outside, watching groups of police in riot gear patrolling the streets, heavy assault rifles and shotguns in hand. Whatever was happening in Broker, so far it hadn't spread to the rest of the city, and Francis was determined to keep it that way. Now, with nothing more than a very quick and cryptic phone call from the Centre for Disease Control, he was set for a one on one meeting with one of their agents on the roof of the HTB Building, one of the highest skyscrapers in the city, where he wanted to either get some answers, or on the first flight out of here. With the mayor on one of his monthly 'comfort trips' to Las Venturas and the deputy mayor, Bryce Dawkins, was currently in an indefinite stay in a 're-education camp' for that fiasco with a gay Serbian immigrant a few weeks ago, Francis was the current highest authority in the whole city during the current crisis, and he hated it.

With his aides giving him bleak reports of whole squads getting wiped out in running battles with looters and the undead, Francis now found himself in the unenviable position of having to preside over a city steadily falling apart. The debacle at the Charge Island bridge was only the start, he knew that for a fact, and now ,as the limousine stopped and he stepped out, a squad of NOOSE operatives instantly forming a defensive position around him, he entered the empty glass lined lobby of the HTB Building.

Stopping at the open lift doors Francis turned to the NOOSE team's leader.

"Is the building locked down?" he said simply and the balaclava clad officer nodded, hefting his M4 as the police commissioner stepped into the empty lift.

"Wish me luck then…" he said with a grim smile as the doors closed and he began to ascend.

* * *

The rooftop that he emerged out onto was freezing cold, the wind howling across the tarmac and over the city spread out beyond.

Gripping the flimsy metal handrail at the buildings edge, Francis took a deep breath as he looked upon a scene of chaos.

Broker was covered in a thick blanket of smoke, mainly from the densely packed residential areas and by the Charge Island bridges. The two main crossings to Algonquin were filled with stalled traffic up to the halfway point, where the black forms of NOOSE tanks and armoured trucks had barricaded the approaches, the garbled sounds of megaphones and howl of sirens drifting up whilst blue and red emergency lights pierced the evening gloom.

Above the devastated streets of the island Francis watched the lights from dozens of helicopters, mainly police and NOOSE but also news teams from the rest of the city, sending live streams of undead hordes clambering over trashed police roadblocks and through empty streets like driver ants. Algonquin however remained the same, its garish neon lights and the roar of traffic in the streets below the same as it had been for countless years.

As for the other islands, he had no real idea what was going on. Bohan had apparently descended into chaos hours after the first undead started appearing, and even now he could still hear the crackle of gunfire and explosions echoing out from it. Besides putting a heavy NOOSE blockade on the approaches to Algonquin from the island, Francis had done very little regarding Bohan. 'Acceptable losses' was what the senior NOOSE commander had said during last night's crisis meeting. Alderney seemed to be doing only slightly better than Broker, as the pall of smoke over it showed. From what they had managed to piece together through isolated broadcasts and messages to the LCPD headquarters, the island was steadily falling to the undead, with the Alderney State Police Department fighting against both zombies and armed gangs, all seeking to carve up their former territories into their own kingdoms. He had seen footage of riot police taking on hundreds of zombies in the remains of residential streets, and now he could just see the grey form of a literal sea of undead besieging the 'safe zone' established at the Alderney State Penitentiary, where both guards and prisoners patrolled the walls with assault rifles and he had even seen the footage of the infamous Lost Brotherhood, all on motorbikes, charging a swarm of zombies on the elevated highway with baseball bats and sawn-off shotguns.

But now, as he turned his attention back to Algonquin, he saw a black helicopter begin to approach, an Annihilator heavy transport like NOOSE used, but completely black with tinted windows and no icon or symbol visible as it came closer.

"Who the…" Francis began, shielding his eyes as the helicopter came in to land on the far side of the roof, whipping up a storm of dust and concrete chippings.

Before the helicopter's landing wheels had even hit the ground the cabin door was thrown open and three black uniformed figures jumped out, one of them stumbling slightly as he jumped out, faces hidden behind gas masks and helmets, swinging their heavy assault rifles in all directions, checking the rooftop before one of them gave a quick thumbs up and the three soldiers dropped to their knees, weapons aimed at Francis, who held his hands up sheepishly. He had been expecting some egghead scientists to be honest and hadn't really thought that shadowy black ops soldiers were standard CDC agents.

However any smarmy comeback to the impassive men before him died on his lips as the last figure emerged from the helicopter.

He was dressed in a smart grey suit, completely at odds with the rest of his outfit, which consisted of black military boots, thick gloves and a military gas mask, covering all parts of his face except his eyes, which were cold and grey behind thick the plastic visor.

"Paul Ross- director of the CIA" He introduced himself as briskly, standing behind the three soldiers.

"Where's the…?" Francis began with a frown but Ross interrupted him.

"CDC?" he finished. "Why they're not really relevant to this city's particular…contagion anymore, are they Mr Mcreary?"

The police commissioner narrowed his eyes slightly at that comment. There was something about this arrogant government agent he didn't particularly trust.

"Now, before we go any further." Ross added. "Let me just tell you what we're not here to do. We are not here to save this city. The plague has spread too far for us to attempt any kind of clean-up operation at this moment. Added to that is the sense of public outrage that may come from the country learning that its greatest city is infested with things that belong in B-movies and you can see why what I am about to tell you is necessary."

For a second the CIA director paused and looked out over the city.

"Sad I guess. That everyone out there has to go through this." He said finally, but Francis could tell by the man's tone of voice that he had no empathy for the plight of Liberty City.

"Look just tell me what you're here for then if you're not coming to save us." He said, trying to keep his tone level but becoming increasingly frustrated with this man's manner.

Ross glanced back at him.

"Look let me give you the facts Mr Mcreary. As of this morning your city was placed under immediate quarantine by the CDC. No one is coming into…or getting out of, here for another seven days."

"Seven days…" Francis began, but the CIA director held up a hand.

"Save the questions until I'm finished. There is a media blackout upon this city as well, so none of those opportunistic media vultures out there can broadcast their bullshit. As far as the rest of the world is concerned Liberty City is currently experiencing a severe terrorist threat upon it and so the no fly zone the USAF has provided you with is there to stop any kind of travel until the end of the seven day period when the 'terrorists' will be 'found' by my operatives and dealt with."

Francis backed away slightly. What this man was saying was horrific.

"So you're abandoning us?"

Ross nodded.

"For seven days yes. Until then you're on your own. Do whatever you want to preserve at least some of this city for the Marines to save when they land here next Monday…"

And with that the CIA Director turned to go back to the helicopter.

"Wait!" Francis called and, surprisingly, the CIA director turned around, so he continued. "I want some answers at least."

Ross shrugged.

"I've got time I guess…"

"What the hell is this plague?" Francis said. "And what's with the seven days' time limit?"

"The plague of the undead." Ross began. "Is one of the greatest American secrets, something that not even the most hard-core of conspiracy theorists has even heard of. It first happened in the summer of 1911 for unknown reasons in the American states of West Elizabeth and New Austin, and the Mexican border region known as Nuevo Parisio. The plague reanimated any who died during the period by any means except destruction of the brain, and also reanimated the dead from the cemeteries. For a week the entire area was quarantined by the two governments and left to literally rot. At the end of that seven day period the plague simply vanished, leaving nothing but corpses and shell shocked survivors."

"I've never heard of those places." Francis replied simply, shaking his head in disbelief.

"You won't have…" Ross said firmly. "Because the US and Mexican armies literally wiped that region off the map when they moved in after the week. The survivors were quickly hushed up with money or prison and asylum sentences whilst my great grandfather, Edgar Ross, went on to create the modern FBI. He never spoke about what he went through to my family but I know he was the real hero of that undead nightmare…" he added. "Because, only days after the last of the zombies were destroyed, he took a unit to destroy the last of the criminal elements in that lawless region that had survived and put them to the sword…" he finished triumphantly.

Ross glanced at the lead soldier, who held up a fist and he nodded.

"Bottom line here is, Mr Mcreary, that I have been authorised to use any means necessary to contain this outbreak so, as you must have seen on the bridges earlier today, I am willing to do anything to stop this contagion spreading. You are all acceptable losses to me…" he said finally as he walked back to the helicopter, the three soldiers with him bringing up the rear.

As Francis turned to leave he noticed the soldier at the back glance at the man in front of him and say, in an emotionless monotone.

"Sir, Number 2 has a tear in his suit."

Instantly Ross walked up to the other soldier 'Number 2' and, as Francis watched in horror, draw a pistol from his jacket and calmly shoot the man in the head, his body tumbling over the guardrail and off the side of the building.

"As I said Mr Mcreary!" Ross shouted as he clambered aboard the helicopter and it began to rise, gripping onto the open cabin door. "Acceptable losses!"


	7. Chapter 7- Isolated System

**9****th**** April 2008**

**7:00am Broker, Liberty City**

**(166 hours quarantine remaining)**

Niko breathed in the cool morning air from his vantage point atop the low rise apartment block, watching debris and rubbish blowing across the empty street beyond. At the end of the road, crouched by a crashed ambulance, three zombies feasted on the remains of a stray dog they had caught a few minutes earlier, whilst the distant crackle of gunfire from the Algonquin Bridge across the island provided a strange soundtrack to the scene. Lighting a cigarette and breathing in the foul fumes, Niko shouldered his heavy shotgun and looked out.

"And I thought this city couldn't get any shitter…" he mused to himself with a grim smile, blowing out a cloud of grey smoke, which drifted away and beyond.

They had been in this abandoned apartment building for the past few hours, catching small bursts of haunted sleep after sprinting away from a horde of undead vagrants and barricading themselves in for the night.

Niko had volunteered to take first watch half an hour ago, the only response a faint moan from Roman, who was sat asleep by the door with Jacob's shotgun in hand. In a weird way he was almost enjoying his time alone out here. It helped him to think about the events of the past day and to attempt to come to terms with whatever madness was infesting this city. In the space of one day he had seen more violence and death than in his entire criminal career in this wretched hive of a city and from policemen getting torn to pieces in front of him to watching military jets bomb innocent people to oblivion, it seemed as if it just couldn't get any worse.

As he watched the street below he heard the distinct whir of an Uzi submachine gun from nearby and he leaned out, resting a hand on the concrete handrail to steady himself. A figure came bursting out of a nearby alleyway, dressed in a thick leather jacket and torn jeans, a blood-stained bandage wrapped around his left arm, firing his weapon one handed with the other. The man ran, stumbling on a blood drenched corpse and sprawling to the ground.

Then the zombies appeared.

These ones were different however; slim and slender, running on all fours like rabid dogs. Even from his high vantage point Niko could hear the ear piercing shrieks of the ten strong pack as they scuttled forward. The man on the floor, gripping his weapon in both hands, face contorted with pain, opened fire again, the harsh clatter of his gun echoing across the street. Already Niko could see the undead at the end of the street look up from their meal and slowly begin to lumber across; whilst shadowy figures began emerging from empty shop fronts and shadowy alleyways.

"Ah fuck!" the man screamed as he pulled the trigger over and over again, only to be met by the dull click of an empty chamber. Niko tried to look away but somehow felt himself compelled to watch. There was nothing he could do to help. His shotgun wouldn't be effective from this range and there were too many zombies out on the street by now. Besides, if he took action it was likely the undead would start attacking the very weakly barricaded building they had holed up in.

By now the zombies were by him, and the survivor started pleading with them.

"Aw c'mon! I'm… heh…one of you. Look!" he screeched, tearing off the bandage around his arm. "I'm bit too! My daughter…she… Oh God no!" he screamed as the scuttling zombies fell upon him and began to tear him apart.

Niko grimaced and turned for the roof access door. He had seen enough.

Clattering down the metal steps down from the roof he was met by Roman, shotgun in hand, who only nodded at him as he stepped past.

"Are things bad out there?" Niko nodded simply.

"Just saw some poor fucker get torn apart by some fast zombies. We should move now while their distracted." He added coldly.

Roman winced at the mention of the lone survivor's fate.

"Are you ok cousin?" he said softly, a concerned look in his eye, but Niko brushed off his cousin with a brisk retort.

"Fine Roman. Now get Jacob up and ready. I want to be out here in less than a minute…"

Niko was the first out on the street after they packed up, shotgun raised and scanning the area beyond, hearing the crack of bone from further up the street as the undead continued to pull apart the dead survivor.

"Now…" he hissed and Jacob and Roman came stumbling after him, their own weapons at the ready.

Their commandeered vehicle, a white Landstalker 4x4, sat only a few metres away, parked by two burnt out cars.

The three men crouched low as they scuttled to the car, sweating and pale at the thought of what would happen if the zombies further down the road heard what they were doing. They were almost at the car when a dark shape moved in front of them from behind a pile of bullet riddled zombie corpses.

"What was that?" Roman said from behind, only hearing the noise as he kept his focus on the zombies behind them.

"Just a dog…" Jacob said with a sigh of relief.

But then both he and Niko looked closer at the dog before them, and instantly saw something was definitely wrong.

The creature's fur was matted and covered in dried blood, whilist it's muzzle looked as if it had been savaged by a wild animal. Definitely not an average house pet. It stood in front of them, blocking their path, yellowing teeth bared.

"It's a…" Jacob began, but it was already too late as the undead dog lifted its head high and howled before pouncing forward.

Instantly its head was blown apart by a blast from Niko's shotgun and he ran forward.

"Run you fuckers!" he bellowed as the shrieks of the fast zombies from before pierced the morning quiet, followed by the footsteps of dozens of shuffling feet breaking into staggering runs.

"Quicker!" Roman shouted, firing off a few shots at the running undead before breaking into a sprint to the car, which Jacob was already frantically starting up.

As his cousin hurled himself into the back seat and Jacob started up the engine with a shout of success, Niko turned to face the stumbling undead. There must have been at least thirty of them, men and women, all dressed in blood-stained and torn clothing as they ran at him.

"Come at me you fucks!" he roared as he fired his shotgun into them, many staggering back to their feet despite huge craters of flesh being blown from their chests by buckshot.

Suddenly he was knocked from his feet and fell hard onto the tarmac. Looking up he was met by the shrunken face of one of the scuttler zombies, its teeth bared as it lunged for him. Head-butting the diseased thing in the face he threw it aside roughly, the zombie slamming headfirst into a wall and leaving a large crimson stain as it was lost in the horde and he aimed his shotgun again.

"Shit…" he said simply as he fired his last shell, the zombies now metres away. Hurling the gun into the back of the Landstalker he drew his Desert Eagle and fired a few shots before Roman literally dragged him away.

"Step on it!" Roman shouted to Jacob up front as Niko slammed the door shut behind him, a zombie rebounding off as it slammed into the side. Sending the car into a tight curve Jacob ploughed through the undead with a mad bout of laughter as he watched the bodies slide up and over the bonnet.

"Dis is more like it mon!" he shouted with another laugh as he sent the 4x4 screeching onwards.

"What now then?" Roman asked, still breathing heavily as he watched the empty streets flying past.

Niko sighed but smiled warmly at his cousin.

"We'll get to Mallorie, don't you worry about that…"

As they sped on the radio suddenly crackled into life with the unmistakable dull whine of the emergency broadcast system.

"Turn it up!" Roman hissed.

"This is an emergency broadcast on behalf of the Liberty City Police Department." Came the robotic voice over the radio. "Until the current crisis is over Liberty City remains in a state of martial law. Due to the spread of the infection Algonquin Island is currently under a state of lockdown and any attempts to cross the bridges or use of other ways to reach the island shall be met with lethal force. All citizens are advised to barricade themselves in their homes and stockpile a weeks' worth of supplies. LCPD patrols will monitor the streets and any looting or crime will be dealt with swiftly."

Niko's face paled as he listened to the broadcast. They were on their own.

The broadcast immediately repeated itself.

"This is an emergency broadcast on…"

Jacob quickly turned the radio off, eyes fixed on the view up ahead as Roman turned to Niko.

"This doesn't change a thing Niko…" he said firmly. "One way or another I am getting to Algonquin."

Niko raised an eyebrow.

"Look cousin if what they're saying is right…"

"If what they're saying is right then she's in even more danger! If they're setting up a safe zone on Algonquin then every dumb fuck in the city is going to be descending upon it."

"The bridges are guarded…"

"And all it takes is one infected bastard to get through and the whole thing just falls apart." Roman said. "You saw that dog back there. If the plague is spreading to animals too who knows how long the 'safe zone' can stay that way. Do you know how many people are probably infected in Broker alone? And how many dogs do you think turned into undead hellhounds along with them? And cats, horses, mangy rats too! Now just think how many undead are going to be swarming after the refugees still stupidly heading for the bridges. How many NOOSE and police do you think are guarding those bridges? A few hundred at the most? Even with assault rifles and tanks it's only a matter of time till they run out of bullets and get swept aside!"

Niko closed his eyes, imagining the horrific scene when those bridges were overrun.

"You're right cousin." He said simply. "Jacob, take us down Beechwood City way. If we take the elevated railway from Huntington Street we can make it to the metro system by midday. Hopefully we can sneak into Algonquin that way before the LCPD lockdown is finished."

Roman grinned.

"Thanks cousin. I'm glad you understand."

Niko nodded with a slight smile on his face.

"It's ok man. I mean…"

"Er Niko mon." Jacob said from up front with a nervous tinge to his voice. "Dere be a helicopter following us…"

Leaning forward Niko looked through the front window, seeing the silhouette of a helicopter flying low above them.

"Shit is it the cops?!" Roman said, crouching low in anticipation of a hail of gunfire.

"Worse…Weazel News." Niko observed with a grimace. "Put the radio on." He added simply and Jacob complied before swerving to avoid a burning police car, the whir of the helicopter overhead thundering in their ears as they listened to the distinct Weazel News fanfare.

"This is Weazel News reporting live from Weazel Chopper Four above Broker Island. I'm Mike Whitely getting you the lowdown on the current plague sweeping the poor regions of Liberty City with the viciousness of a Bohan crack whore after a late night coke session. As zombies tear apart Libertonians left right and centre the line between undead monster and the inbred poor underclass is becoming increasingly blurred whilst LCPD units are in full retreat from what is being hailed by crazed sandwich board wearing prophets as the biggest 'fucking told you so' moment in recent history. Now we are flying above the burning ruins of Broker, following a group of immigrants taking advantage of the current crisis to loot the businesses and corpses of hardworking American citizens…"

"Turn it off." Niko said simply as he watched the helicopter bank low overhead, cabin door open to reveal a group of journalists leaning out the sides, the flash of cameras stinging his eyes.

"Shit mon how am I supposed to…" Jacob began, but was cut off as, with a banshee like shriek, a luminous green zombie stumbled from a nearby shop front and spat a wad of green goo onto the windscreen.

"Fuck!" Jacob roared and the car screeched in a mad zigzag across the road and rebounded off a line of parked cars.

"Get it under…" Roman began but was cut off as they passed under a railway bridge and a horde of undead leapt down onto the roof, their fists slamming above them.

"Things are really heating up!" declared the Weazel News reporter over the radio with a laugh.

Niko bellowed as he grabbed his Desert Eagle and fired a shot at the zombies hammering on the windows outside, before screaming in pain from the sound of the gun echoing in the tight space.

Next thing the car's occupants knew they were spinning wildly across the road, dead hands reaching in as the windows shattered. It would have been the end for the three men, had a rotting hand, reaching for Jacob's throat, not accidentally grabbed onto the steering wheel, sending the 4x4, covered with at least a dozen zombies hanging on its sides like barnacles, into one last burst of speed, straight into a fallen lamppost.

The car went into the bent metal pole at full speed, flipping onto its right side and screeching across the road with sparks flying everywhere, the zombies hanging on either side crushed into paste beneath the vehicles weight or sent sprawling. Finally the 4x4 smashed into the side of a bloodstained NOOSE van and came to a juddering halt, its three human occupants tumbling out the sides bruised and battered but alive.

"Holy shit mon." Jacob said as he staggered to his feet, whilst Roman vomited straight onto the street.

Niko rubbed his head absently. It wasn't the worst crash he had been in.

Glancing up Niko saw the Weazel Chopper Four hovering low and he casually gave it the finger as he helped Roman to his feet and grabbed his shotgun from the wreckage, cursing as he found it bent out of shape and beyond repair and hurling it aside, whilst Jacob's gun was lost in the twisted wreckage.

"Ah fuck…" he said softly as the helicopter came for another pass, the photographers and journalists still snapping pictures. But then he saw movement on the rooftop of the office building the helicopter was hovering next to.

The next thing he knew a horde of undead were running straight toward the helicopter as it desperately tried to fly away whilst simultaneously giving the photographers aboard the best possible angles for their pictures. That proved an impossible task as, although many of the zombies hurled themselves off the rooftop, many more made the jump and latched onto the side of the aircraft, grabbing at the screaming occupants.

"Shame." Niko said blankly as the helicopter went into a tailspin and was lost behind the buildings across the street. "Even the vultures are being eaten now…"

He was brought abruptly from his thoughts as Roman tapped him on the shoulder and pointed out at the street beyond.

"Cousin we may have a problem." He said simply as Niko saw dozens of zombies lumbering towards them from all directions.

Niko sighed.

"Ah shit…"


	8. Chapter 8- Welcome to Zion

**9****th**** April 2008**

**10:40am Broker, Liberty City**

**(163 hours quarantine remaining)**

"Ah shit." Niko said softly as he watched the zombies approach from all sides, quickly dropping to his knees and scrambling around through the wrecked car to salvage their weapons as Roman and Jacob faced down the zombies unarmed.

"Come at me mon!" He heard Jacob roar, and heard the sound of an undead head slamming into concrete with a wet smack.

"Fuck!" he cursed as he found the remains of his and Jacob's shotguns, both crushed in the wreckage, whilist Roman's pistol was bent and twisted underneath the bonnet.

Checking his own pockets he found his Desert Eagle, which had left a noticeable bruise on his chest where it had hit him during the crash. Pulling out the magazine he found three bullets left and he quickly chambered the first round.

"Save them for us…" he said solemnly as the undead closed in.

The three men stood, back to back, as the first zombie, dressed in a ragged paramedic uniform, stumbled towards them, teeth bared and leapt at Roman.

But then, with a loud crack, the zombie's head exploded and the sharp bang of a high powered rifle echoed across the street. Niko looked around wildly for the shooter and it wasn't until he looked up to the rooftop behind them, as the zombie horde was quickly torn apart by bursts of accurate assault rifle fire, that he saw their saviours, and felt a smile come to his face for what felt like the first time in weeks.

Above them, firing a motley collection of AK-47's and hunting rifles, a group of brightly dressed members of the Jamaican Hillside Posse, otherwise known as Yardies, were stood, a cloud of smoke above their heads from both their weapons and the joints in their mouths.

"My boys!" Jacob declared with a laugh as the last of the zombies on the street crumpled to the blood smeared tarmac.

"Climb up!" Shouted the leader of their rescuers, a fat but burly man in a bright orange suit, taking a drag on a joint as he reloaded his AK.

The three men in the street needed no more encouragement as they clambered up the rusted iron fire escape and joined their rescuers on the rooftop of the burnt out apartment building above them.

"Samuel!" Jacob said with a grin and embraced the fat man in orange, the two laughing as they embraced warmly. "You've met Niko and Roman before?"

Samuel nodded and grinned at the two cousins, but his smile disappeared when the distant howls of approaching zombies echoed out from a few streets away.

"We need to move." Jacob said simply. "That fight will have drawn more of dem."

Pointing to the north Samuel quickly ran off across the rooftop, suprisingly nimble for someone of his size, and the others quickly fell into step behind.

"Are you all that's left of the old crew then?" Jacob asked, glancing with unease down at the silent streets below packed with the empty husks of unmoving cars.

"Nah mon." Samuel said with a slight laugh. "We've got a base up near de old café. Managed to get most of our boys and people from de local area in before the hordes started filling de streets. It's safe. At least for now." He added grimly.

"I'm guessing that the rest of Broker is just as bad?" Roman said nervously, eyes watching the distant skyscrapers of Algonquin beyond.

Samuel nodded.

"Last night was de worst. People trying to evacuate through Dukes to reach the airport got pounced by a whole pack of zombie dogs. De whole animal control centre must have been infected or something. I was on lookout that night and I just remember watching people getting torn to shreds. De cops tried their best but the gunshots just brought more zombies down on them. This morning there must have been two hundred new zombies shambling down that way…"

"What are the police doing about this?"

The fat Rasta shrugged.

"They're still out there. A few scattered units mainly. Most of them got slaughtered fighting the first hordes or got evacuated to Algonquin. I hear a group of them are holed up in the South Slopes station…"

Niko sighed. It was obvious help wasn't coming.

It was as they leapt a small gap between two buildings that Niko heard a strange sound in the air. It wasn't the sounds of zombies. The ones they had seen from their lofty position were just shambling around aimlessly for the most part, whilist the barks of undead dogs were just audible from a few streets down, along with the crackle of distant gunfire. It was a whooshing sound, as if of engines but lower than the high pitched whir of the USAF jets he had seen above the Charge Island Bridge yesterday.

He was about to look up and check the sky when he heard the sound even closer, by now a dull roar coming ever closer.

"Down!" Niko bellowed to the others, all pale faced and looking in all directions, but instantly hitting the concrete floor at the gangster's command.

A second after the last of the group was face down Niko looked up for a second and felt a wave of heat scorch his face as a huge passenger plane, its right engine smoking and the other in flames, roared overhead with a deafening howl of engines.

Staggering to his feet Niko watched in horror as its underside smashed into the top of a nearby building, slicing off the top floor in a cloud of dust and debris as it continued its descent.

For a second the plane appeared to right it as it flew towards the airport beyond, managing to gain some altitude.

Then Niko felt his ears ringing from as the piercing screech of jet engines filled the air and three silver USAF fighter jets screamed past at rooftop level, pursuing the fleeing passenger plane and easily catching up to it before raking the stricken aircraft with missiles and heavy machine cannon. The plane, smoking from missile strikes and wreathed in flame, turned on its side and went straight down, crashing headlong into a high rise office building with a huge explosion, the building crumpling and collapsing in a cloud of ash and smoke.

"Fuck…" one of the Hillside Posse said softly, breathing heavily as he stood up on shaking legs.

"They're bombing the airport." Roman said simply, eyes wide. Above them in the smoke filled skies more warplanes could be seen, two squadrons of five just visible as dark shadows heading towards the airport. "Where was it going?" he added and Niko only shook his head slowly, running a hand through his cropped hair in frustration as he replied.

"Probably full of people trying to escape. I don't think the LCPD are the only people putting quarantines on the city. Seems if anyone looks like they're trying to get away they shoot them down. Hard arsed bastards…"

Jacob nodded solemnly and turned to Samuel.

"How far to your base?"

The fat Rasta pointed forwards.

"About half an hour away at this pace and if we don't want to attract dem zombies."

As one of the gang members threw him a pistol Niko took the lead, slamming a magazine into the small Glock in a heartbeat.

"Let's do this…" he said firmly and ran on.

* * *

It took them two hours to reach their final destination, mainly as, once they were off the rooftops, they had to spend minutes at a time sneaking around packs of zombies. The moist tense moment had come when they had had to cross the huge open expanse of the highway linking the Algonquin Bridge and Francis International Airport. Niko was still sweating now from the terrifying journey across, crawling between the crush of vehicles across the entire roadway. At one point he and the others had lain still for over half an hour amongst rotting corpses and bloodstains as a horde of literally hundreds of zombies had stumbled up the road, heading up towards the explosions audible from the direction of the airport as the military continued their bombing runs on the runways.

"Here we are." Samuel declared as they turned a corner and Niko looked up the street and felt a slight sense of relief that somehow, in the midst of all this death and destruction, the living still survived.

Halfway down the street, a relatively normal residential one filled with squat apartment buildings and small businesses, rose a towering barricade at least ten metres high, constructed from shipping crates and cars stacked on top of one another, with two thick gates of riveted iron, the words 'Police Line Do Not Cross' just visible in faded white paint on their sides.

"Welcome to Zion." Samuel declared proudly as they came to the gates, passing countless dead zombies and undead animals, guards standing atop the wall behind a parapet of iron railings and barbed wire cheering and waving as the gates were opened and the small group entered the settlement.

"So this is a safe zone?" Niko asked as the gates were shut behind them to be greeted by a crowd of eager citizens in the street beyond, a row of tents and vehicles draped in tarpaulins and sheets to form crude shelters filling the entire avenue, the dark form of another scrap metal wall rising up at the other end of the street far beyond.

"As safe as you can get in this city." Samuel replied with a grim smile.

Pulling the fat Rasta to one side as the other men disappeared into the street beyond, Jacob spoke softly in Samuel's ear, only audible to Niko and roman next to him.

"We need to talk."

Samuel led them to an old five storey block of flats in the middle of the Zion settlement, the entrance guarded by two Yardies with shotguns, who grinned and opened the double doors as Samuel led the small group onwards.

"You have to understand mon." the fat Rasta said grimly as he led them up the stairs of the dilapidated building, graffiti covering all parts of the chipped paint that hadn't fallen away to reveal bare concrete. "Things have been hard. More of us died than survived out dere. When those zombies came it didn't matter who you was or how tough you were."

He paused for a second as they passed another guard, this one gesturing with his Uzi up the stairs as they climbed up higher.

"When those things attacked the Homebrew I thought we was done for. We shot them up. All of dem. The boys were shooting these ragged little shits up with AKs and they just kept coming! By the time Badman came with reinforcements ten of ma boys were either dead or trying to eat us themselves…"

He turned to Jacob, who was shaking his head in disbelief.

"It were a good thing you went to Niko mon. The guy guarding the door instead of you got his face ripped off."

By then they were on the third floor and Niko grabbed Samuel by the arm as he went to the stairs.

"Look man. We need answers about how dangerous it is out there for us. Where's Badman?"

Samuel sighed and nodded towards the stairs.

"I'll explain at the top."

After another minute of walking they reached the top floor, a large single room the length and width of the building, the walls covered in stacks of weaponry and crates of cannabis covering almost all available floor space.

"Now for some answers." Niko said firmly, but not threateningly.

Samuel nodded and turned to Jacob with a frown.

"Jacob. Badman is dead."

Niko expected Jacob to frown, or maybe shed a tear but the Rasta only looked at the floor, seeming to inspect the scuffed wood before saying.

"How?"

Samuel shook his head.

"He went out on a scavenging run down to the local Burger Shot. He said he had seen some punks with guns holed up there and thought we could take them out and get their supplies. Winston and Bone went with him for backup but only Bone returned a few hours later about midnight, big bite wound on his arm and babbling about zombie dogs before dying on the spot. We put him down and burnt his body." He added with a frown.

"So what now?" Roman asked. "Algonquin?"

"Algonquin?" Samuel said, his eyes widening slightly at the name. "Why do you want to…"

"Long story." Niko explained quickly. "But it isn't going anywhere anytime soon cousin. I think the LCPD can hold the zombies back another few hours while we rest up. Lord knows we need it after what we've been through."

Samuel nodded and, as the others talked about sleeping arrangements and supplies to take out into the city beyond, Niko glanced out the window, watching the explosions blossoming out over the airport beyond, and the military jets bombing their own country into oblivion.


	9. Chapter 9- Search and Destroy

**9****th**** April 2008**

**11:25pm Happiness Island, Liberty City**

**(150 hours quarantine remaining)**

LCPD Sergeant Jill Paster hefted her M4 as she walked through the interior hall of the Statue of Happiness. Around her the huddled forms of the dozen or so civilians she and her officers had been in charge of for the past two days sat in the gloom of dim electric lanterns. Since the day before, when she had watched helicopters hover low above the islands of Alderney and Broker as the crackle of gunfire and dull roar of explosions echoed across the bay, the sergeant had been de facto leader of the small group of civilians and LCPD officers left on the island. When her radio transmissions had been met with nothing but a repeated LCPD emergency broadcast and garbled chatter from embattled civilians and police alike across the city, Jill had come to the conclusion no help was coming. Whatever was happening in the city beyond hadn't spread here, and she was determined to keep it that way after most of the people on the island the day before, when they had lost contact with the mainland, had attempted to get to Alderney by boat. She had watched them go, taking all but two of the boats docked at the marina, and, as they landed at the small port next to the Alderney State Correctional Facility, seen the entire group attacked by a horde of crazed looking people, who literally tore them limb from limb.

Jill had seen enough horror films to know that, whatever was going on in the city, she wasn't going back there until it was sorted. Although the gunfire and sirens from the city had faded recently, Algonquin seemed relatively unaffected, and the sergeant would have considered taking her small survivor group there, if she hadn't watched a boatload of people from Alderney trying that and getting shot by LCPD officers on the riverbank. As she stepped out of the pedestal of the mammoth statue above, the sergeant looked out towards the city beyond.

Alderney was still wreathed in smoke, with a few fires raging across its dark skyline, the only lights visible in a few isolated buildings and the squat form of the prison, where searchlights pierced the gloom beyond its dark walls. The bridges were also bathed in harsh white light, and if she looked carefully she could just see the flashes of blue and red from police vehicles stationed on them. As always Algonquin was an oasis of brightness, although she could also see black NOOSE Annihilators patrolling the air above it, whilst the concrete and steel wall that she had watched an army of workers constructing for the entire day along the islands edge was now complete, topped with barbed wire and dotted with guard towers of wood and stone. Whatever madness the rest of the city had descend into, that island was unaffected for now, the sergeant thought as she walked across the empty plaza in front of the statue. Only a few days ago she had been in this same spot, the sun blazing down as tourists and families milled around the square and filled the island with noise and laughter. Now that was all gone, the only evidence of people ever being here the odd newspaper or piece of litter along with the toppled form of a hotdog cart, spilling it's now mouldy produce across the clean stone.

They would survive though, Jill thought to herself with a smile. Already one of the civilians, a farmer named Tyrone from Los Santos, had drawn up plans and scavenged the materials needed to make a garden in the ornamental parks around the island for food, whilst they had enough fuel to keep the generators, and electricity, on the island for at least a month. By the time the National Guard or whoever was coming to save them turned up, they would still be alive and doing quite well for themselves.

Her grin died however, as she looked over at the docks to his left, plunged into darkness. She had sent Officers Sykes and Braun over there to guard the boats a few hours ago, and Jill knew those two would never have left their posts. Gripping her rifle the sergeant moved slowly towards the pitch black form of the small pier, hearing the gentle flow of the waves underneath her as she set a foot on the wooden planks.

"Sykes!" She hissed, her voice low and her weapon now set to his shoulder. "Braun! Quit fucking about and…"

Jill paused as she saw an unfamiliar shape in the water next to her. Bending down,hands still clamped to her rifle, she examined the object, which she now saw to be a sleek and powerful looking black speedboat, low slung and obviously very high end. And yet Jill felt a chill through her. She had never seen that boat before. All the watercraft they had left was a small white cabin cruiser and a fast police patrol boat, both at the end of the pier, where her colleagues should also have been. As she peered closer the sergeant was too engrossed to feel the firm grip of a hand on her shoulder, but she definitely felt the touch of the cold steel blade on her neck, and the quick flick of the knife that slit her throat. Jill only had a second to feel the excruciating pain as her blood spurted out, before she tumbled headfirst and was swallowed up in the cool embrace of the dark waters below.

Her killer stood up slowly, the combat knife wiped of the dead officer's blood and holstered in a second. Face hidden behind a thick black balaclava, gas mask and combat helmet, the figure blended perfectly into the darkness, its ebony coloured armour and uniform bearing no crests or insignia, whilist the weapons at their side, a HK16 assault rifle and a suppressed Glock pistol, were matt black, painted to not reflect light. Taking up a position to cover the silent pier by a pile of crates, the operative held up a fist.

Instantly, from underneath the pier, three other identical soldiers appeared, all silently moving onto the shore and, at a signal from the first operative, moving in on the bright lights of the statue beyond.

* * *

Officer Hanks stumbled down the steps of the statue interior, breathing heavily and cursing his large frame. He would never get used to the bulky M4 the sergeant had entrusted him with. If he could have gone back in time to before the city descended into anarchy, he was sure he would have actually bought that gym membership. He nodded to Officer Rowling standing by the open door ,facing inwards. There seemed no real point to closing the heavy iron doors. The past day had been scorching hot, and a little breeze was exactly what the men and women inside, exhausted from shifting heavy crates from the warehouse by the water, and digging the irrigation trenches needed for planting crops in the future.

"The sergeant called in yet?" he asked, and the skinny officer only shrugged, rubbing his unshaven chin.

"Seems he…" he began, but never spoke again as there was a slight _thunk _sound and he fell to the floor, a bullet in the back of his head.

"We're under…" the officer managed to bellow before he felt a bullet strike him in the neck, and the last he saw was a group of shadowy soldiers in gas masks run past, firing into the building beyond, before darkness took him forever.

The first black uniformed operative rushed forward, firing a quick burst of assault rifle fire into a police officer fumbling with his pistol at the top of the marble stairs, before taking down another officer brandishing an M4 with a second burst.

"Stairs clear." The operative declared as they moved up, checking both sides before moving onto the landing, noticing a group of unarmed civilians huddled low in the corner, all trembling with fear.

Then the operative felt a sharp pain in his leg, and turned to see the officer he thought dead, aiming his smoking pistol from a prone position, as he coughed up wads of blood. Emptying the rest of the rifles magazine into the officer in a heartbeat, the operative, after making sure the room was clear, dropped to his knees and checked his leg, finding a tear in his uniform exposing bloody flesh.

As he rose to his feet again the operative felt the cold steel of a rifle barrel on the back of his neck.

"Sorry sir. Just following orders." The soldier above him said, before calmly putting a bullet through the operative's head.

Taking a deep breath and turning away from his dead comrade, the second operative checked the rest of the room, noticing another operative moving up the stairs, who simply nodded to say 'Area secure' before moving towards the huddle of civilians alongside him, assault rifle raised.

"Command we have ten survivors here, all unarmed." The operative said into his radio as the two of them stood over the weeping men, women and children at their feet.

As the simple command came into his earpiece, the operative shook his head.

"Sir they have kids here!"

But as the command was repeated again, more forcefully, he nodded slowly at his comrade and ,taking another deep breath as he aimed at the survivors, opened fire.

* * *

An hour later and the island was a hive of activity. With the survivors all rounded up and executed, groups of soldiers threw the bloodstained corpses into a large ditch before another gas masked soldier with a flamethrower set them alight. A heavy Chinook helicopter, painted black and almost silent due to the top secret modifications upon it, landed in the main plaza, which had now been cleared for a landing area and filled with airtight white quarantine tents and supply dumps, ,landing crew in hazmat suits and gas masks rushing out as it came to a stop. The unit commander, a towering figure with his face hidden behind a thick gas mask,HK16 at his side, stood by as the back hatch opened and a group of operatives spilled out to cover the area. At a hand signal from one of the soldiers, the last figure strolled out, his grey suit immaculate as he checked his mask with gloved hands momentarily.

"Director Ross." The commander said, snapping off a salute,which the director only rolled his eyes at.

"Spare me the crap commander. Just give me the facts." He demanded,his voice slightly muffled by the heavy gas mask.

The commander nodded and replied simply.

"Forward base has been established sir. Ready to move into the city at your command."


	10. Chapter 10- The Safe Zone

**11****th**** April 2008**

**9:00am Algonquin, Liberty City**

**(140 hours quarantine remaining)**

The morning after the CIA raid upon Happiness Island was overcast and gloomy, smoke still rising from the crude funeral pyre constructed at the base of the towering statue. It was nothing new though for the embattled city. Broker was covered in a pall of smoke from leaking gas pipe fires and the burning remains of cars set light by looters and raiders, whilst Alderney had been ablaze the night before after a failed attack by the Lost Brotherhood on the Correctional Facility had set light to the abandoned oil refineries in the area.

But events in the rest of the city were hardly a concern for the Algonquin Safe Zone. Behind the twenty metre high perimeter wall the island was still the same as it had been only two days before, except with a much heavier police presence. Martial law still ruled the island, as it did in the rest of the city, although on the main island LCPD officers and NOOSE tanks still remained to enforce the rule of law. The city's distinctive yellow taxis still filled the streets, whilist the foul mouthed insults of drivers and blare of horns provided an effective distraction to the moans of the undead drifting in from the other islands. And yet, although the rest of the island seemed indifferent to their plight, amongst the thousands of Libertonians just going about their business as normal, for one woman, life could not go on as it had before.

Mallorie Bardas wandered through her apartment, a luxurious space her and Roman had bought only a few weeks ago along the city waterfront, in a slight daze, her brown hair unkempt and her eyes narrowed from lack of sleep behind her glasses. Glancing out the window, where bright sunshine shone through, completely at odds with her mood, she could see traffic moving below, along with the impassive form of the perimeter wall, police officers with assault rifles just visible in the watchtowers spaced along its length. And yet, despite the fact that Mallorie knew that those walls and police out there would keep her safe from the undead hordes on the news, she still couldn't just ignore what was happening out there. The TV in the corner was still on, showing pictures taken from a news helicopter hovering over Broker, the camera picking out the wreckage of Weazel News Chopper Four, undead news reporters and journalists stumbling around it and moaning at the helicopter above them.

Grabbing her phone from the table Mallorie checked it for what felt like the hundredth time, feeling her heart sink as the words 'No New Messages' stareed blankly back up at her. She was sure Roman had his phone on him when she had last seen him, leaving this very apartment with Niko and Brucie only a few days ago for what would probably be the last night out for those men. She didn't even know if Roman was still alive, and she felt her spirits plummet even further every time the news reports came on with the most recent death tolls from the other islands or press conferences by LCPD officials saying that the lockdown on the bridges was still in effect.

Part of her almost felt guilty for being safe here whilst Roman and Niko were most likely fighting for their lives against the undead in Broker. She had spent the past two days just sitting here waiting for some kind of update, either from Roman or the news, or going out onto the streets to try and buy food from the ridiculously overpriced shops in the area. Since the lockdown there had been fears of rationing, so every shop on the island had raised their prices massively. The news was saying that the average price of bread was over $100 a loaf now, whilist rioting had erupted in the Chinatown area after a police convoy filled with supplies had broken down in Dragon Heart Plaza. There had been sporadic gunfire from that direction for the past hour and Mallorie had watched four NOOSE Patriots roaring in that direction a few minutes ago, officers in the back loading assault rifles and automatic shotguns.

She was brought from her thoughts by the sound of the front door opening and she turned to greet the new arrival.

"Kate! You made it!" she said, slightly more enthusiastically than she meant to.

In the doorway Kate Mcreary responded with a smile and a raised eyebrow as she set down the two plastic bags in her hand, both packed full of canned food which clattered on the laminated wooden flooring.

"Course I did." She responded with a grin. "Not like there's an apocalypse on out there… The streets are pretty quiet at the moment really, but the officers outside are saying there's a big thing going down on the Algonquin Bridge. Seems more and more people are trying to get past the barricades…"

Mallorie sighed. Although she did appreciate Kate's company, she could come across as slightly cold at times, especially when she mentioned Roman and especially when Niko's name came up. She had put it down more to some kind of old defence mechanism left over from her abusive father than indifference on her part. It just seemed like Kate had a different way of dealing with things.

"Was it hard getting food?" she asked casually and Kate only shrugged.

"As hard as walking across the street and getting a message to Francis that we need food has ever been…" Kate replied with a wry smile.

Mallorie smiled slightly. Having the sister of the de facto leader of Algonquin as a roommate did have its perks, beyond the two officers guarding the main street entrance to their apartment building.

"How is Francis?"

"As good as someone who has to look out for a few million people from twice as many zombie freaks can ever be." Kate replied with a sigh. "I'm just glad Mom never had to see this…" she added with a sigh.

"Anything from Packie or Gerald?"

Again Kate could only shake her head.

"Packie's somewhere in Los Santos by now and Gerald, well, he's at the prison in Alderney so he should be alright…for now at least."

Mallorie nodded slowly.

"It's just weird having all the phones down, you know? The TV still works fine and the radio too but all I can get is things from Liberty City. It's just been local Weazel News and that awful Republican Space Rangers all day… Although I guess it beats being chased by crazed cannibals out beyond those walls." She said softly and flopped into an armchair nearby with a deep sigh.

Setting the bags in the small kitchen area Kate sat across from here, wincing at the sound of sirens in the distance. Sitting across from her despairing friend she leaned across.

"Look, it'll be fine. Roman's probably sat on a rooftop with Niko and Jacob laughing at all the zombies trying to get to them. Either that or they're using that small arsenal Packie said they had in Niko's apartment to blast apart anything that comes at them…"

The two women both smiled at that. For once the criminal activities their friends and loved ones engaged in didn't seem so bad.

"Who knows? Maybe we can get that wedding done next week after all…" Mallorie said with a slight grin.

Kate was about to reply when the door burst open and a huge figure stumbled in, gun in hand.

For a second she felt a chill go down her spine, but then recognised the figure in the bright pink shirt and designer jeans.

"Brucie what the fuck man!" she hissed. "Why are you just rushing in here like some drugged up street thug?"

Brucie winced at her words, showing the slightly wimpy personality underneath the mass of muscle and tattoos.

"Sorry Kate." He said simply, breathing heavily as he put his Glock pistol down on the kitchen worktop. "But there's some serious shit going on down at the bridges. People trying to get across…"

Instantly Mallorie was out of her seat and up.

"Are they letting people across?" she asked quickly, a glimmer of hope in her eyes, but that hope faded when Brucie shook his head solemnly.

"No." he said softly. "I'm going to run back up to the Algonquin Bridge and see if I can…"

"I'm coming with you." Mallorie said simply.

Since he had rolled up to the flat the day before nursing a giant hangover and babbling about spending the night in a dumpster after a one night stand with a female LCPD officer from Happiness Island Brucie had taken it upon himself to protect the two women, saying that Niko and Roman would never forgive him if they were hurt in any way. However, although he had proved very helpful he was still veering into overprotectiveness, in Mallorie's opinion. She didn't care what he said. If Roman and Niko were on the other side of that bridge she would cross it herself to get to them. She didn't care about the razor wire, concrete walls and watchtowers in her way; she was determined to reunite herself with the man she loved.

By now she was already at the door, shrugging off Brucie's warnings about the danger outside as he grudgingly followed behind, stuffing his pistol in his back pocket.

"I'll stay here." Kate said firmly as Mallorie opened the front door. "I'm going to beg, plead or threaten our beloved leader my brother to try and help you get Roman back. If he can evacuate all those police officers he can damn well get Niko and Roman back." She added with a determined smile.

Whispering a thank you to Kate as Brucie firmly propelled her out of the door; Mallorie only had one thought on her mind.

'I'm getting him back'.

When they reached the bridge however, having to ditch Brucie's customised Banshee down the street to get past the police checkpoint, they only found a scene of chaos.

As helicopters patrolled overhead and snipers stared down from rooftops and watchtowers, a huge crowd of ordinary civilians clustered by the towering steel gates set up by the Algonquin Bridge's two roadways. Brucie pushed forward, clearing a path through the crowd as Mallorie practically clung to him, trying to block out the shouts and tearful cries from all around here. As they reached the front of the crowd, held back by a thin wall of officers in heavy duty riot gear and a second line of armed NOOSE operatives she peered past the black armoured NOOSE vans and police cruisers, past the silent forms of two tanks and a fire engine with water cannon, their lights all blazing out, to the bridge beyond.

She could just see through the huge gates beyond, to where the concrete roadway stretched outward, empty except for a few burnt out cars and crumpled bodies, a low flying police Maverick helicopter casting a shadow overhead, to the distant forms of the police checkpoint on the other side, with a similar scene to the one here, but with a much more desperate looking crowd visible pushing against the wall of NOOSE vans and armed police.

"Brucie, give me your phone." She said firmly, her burly companion frowning before sighing and handing over the expensive looking mobile phone.

"Hope this has a good camera." She muttered, but Brucie was already saying something to one of the riot police as she got the camera up and aimed it at the other side of the bridge, zooming in as far as she could.

For a second all she could see were the scared looking police officers, one of them firing a warning shot into the air from his rifle as his comrades hefted their shotguns at the crowd beyond.

Then she caught a glimpse of a hard faced looking man in a suit clutching a Desert Eagle who could only be Niko, and then next to him was her pudgy fiancée, shouting at his cousin inaudibly.

For a second she felt a smile come to her face, glad that he was still alive. Then she panned the camera to the street beyond the small crowd, and saw the horde of hundreds of undead stumbling towards them.


	11. Chapter 11- The Salvation Gates

**11****th**** April 2008**

**10:00am Algonquin, Liberty City**

**(139 hours quarantine remaining)**

As Mallorie Bardas stood on the safe side of the river, on the other, standing in the midst of a mob of a few dozen panicked survivors and police officers, Niko and Roman had a much more pressing matter to deal with. Above them rose the curved steel and brick form of the Algonquin Bridge, the double roadway blocked by a small barricade of NOOSE vans, concrete traffic barriers and barbed wire, protected by a group of LCPD officers and NOOSE soldiers in battered armour, hefting their guns at the crowd before them.

And yet, as the crowd continued to scream at the officers to let them through, and Roman shouted in his ear, Niko only had eyes for the horde of undead stumbling up the highway. Past the dozens of abandoned vehicles spilling out across both lanes of the highway, the zombies shambled closer, only a hundred metres or so away. Although everyone there knew of the approaching tide of the undead, they were too busy shouting and pushing at the barricades to try and escape. There was only one way for them to go, and the police knew that as they sent another barrage of warning shots overhead.

"Niko we need to run!" Roman cried out, pushing aside a group of young men trying to grab his and Niko's weapons. After leaving Jacob at the Zion survivor settlement the two men, armed with nothing more than two handguns, thinking that anything else would get them shot by the bridge guards, had been making their way here for the past few hours. Niko had felt such a crushing sense of dread when he had realised nothing was getting them through the formidable defences around Algonquin, and was now wishing they had stuck with Jacob. He couldn't blame the man for wanting to stay at Zion and help his people, but just wished now he had considered taking some more powerful weaponry from the Yardies well stocked armoury.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by the whirring of helicopter blades overhead and the dark shadow of a NOOSE Annihilator thundering overhead, an officer leaning out the side cabin doors with megaphone in hand as the rest of his squad trained their rifles downward.

"Do not attempt to cross the bridges!" the officer shouted down, his voice garbled and distorted, but the metallic sound of two heavy calibre mounted machine guns, which Niko guessed had been installed for 'anti-terrorism' ,being readied, was more threatening.

He saw the police captain with his own megaphone, standing behind a line of officers armed with riot shields and shotguns, pale faced as he looked up, his hat blown off by the winds whipped up by the helicopter hovering above. Storming through the crowd, pulling Roman along behind him, Niko started shouting at the captain, the riot police only giving him looks of confusion before returning to simultaneously watching the crowd of survivors and the horde of undead.

"Let us past captain." He said simply, but the captain, far from shouting back,only shook his head slowly, his face white as the NOOSE commander in the helicopter above shouted more threats to anyone attempting to cross.

"Wish I could…" He replied with a sigh, his hands gripping his rifle and ignoring the shouts of the crowd.

"Those fucking zombies are so close now man! Just open the barricade!"

"And what?" The officer replied with a shout, gripping his weapon even tighter. "Let everyone get…"

He never spoke again. But it wasn't a bullet that struck him in the chest. It was a ball of acid. As Niko and the others watched in horror, for a second the only sound was the sizzling fizz of the green acid and the crackle as the officer's clothing and flesh burnt off in waves as he howled in agony.

"Fucking run!" Someone further down the road shouted, moments before the horde engulfed him, the small scuttling zombies leaping and sprinting forward on all fours as undead dogs and other animals ran ahead of them, ignoring the bullets slamming into the vehicles and ground around them fired by the frantic survivors and police. The entire back end of the huddled survivors was swept aside in seconds, the ones further up stampeding forwards, trampling down anyone unfortunate enough to slow down or fall.

As the police opened fire straight into the crowd, the heavy duty riot shotguns blasting through human and undead alike, Niko started to climb the barricade, dragging Roman behind him as he shoved aside a screaming officer frantically reloading his shotgun before two desperate survivors started wrestling with the officer for the gun. When they were atop one of the NOOSE vans forming the barricade, he glanced back for a second and wished he hadn't.

Although many of the crowd had managed to forced aside the thin line of police many others were still being slaughtered on the highway. Niko saw a woman pulled to the ground and literally torn limb from limb by three of the scuttling zombies, whilst an undead NOOSE officer staggered towards a group of young men in tracksuits, their small calibre Glock pistol rounds ricocheting from the zombie's thick armour and striking other survivors. He turned away and leapt down onto the bridge itself as he saw the first of the gangsters tackled to the ground by the undead NOOSE officer and four others in ragged business suits but he still heard the sharp crack of the man's ribcage being opened.

"Cousin!" Roman was shouting, his eyes wide, and Niko nodded slowly. He needed to think about keeping himself and Roman alive. They ran across the bridge, dodging around burnt out cars, the heavy breathing and shouts of the other survivors running behind them echoing in Niko's ears. They were almost halfway, just past a large grey bus lying on its side, when the whir of helicopter blades once more roared overhead.

"Shit." Niko cursed as the NOOSE Annihilator rose up to the left from under the bridge, the officer with the megaphone once more repeating his orders as the door gunner next to him cracked his knuckles and readied the heavy machine gun.

"Keep running!" Niko bellowed, as much at the people following as Roman. Up ahead the concrete and steel gates loomed, the shouts of a crowd beyond just audible, although whether they were encouraging or telling the survivors to stay away Niko didn't know. Turning he fired a quick shot from his Desert Eagle, watching one of the zombies at the front fall and disappear beneath the feet of its undead comrades. The zombies themselves weren't exactly running, but at the same time these were not the shambling corpses of old B movies, Niko thought. The stumbling run the undead kept at was slower than Niko and the other survivors, but he knew that, once the small band of survivors reached that gate, they would most likely be shot by the guards or torn apart by their pursuers.

"Cousin, we should jump!" Roman said from next to him, pointing at the edge of the bridge, and for a second Niko thought about that. Then he saw another survivor try it, and be followed off the edge by two undead. By the time that man recovered from the fall he would most likely be torn apart. And where would they swim to? Niko was definetly not returning to Broker, and the twenty metre high concrete walls around Algonquin stretched right to the waterline.

But any other thoughts about escape were lost as the Annihilator swooped down to their level, flying just a few metres off the edge of the bridge, the door gunner and other NOOSE troopers aiming out.

"This is your final warning!" came the garbled shout from the helicopter. "Any attempts to cross the bridge will be met by lethal force!"

As he said this Niko saw another helicopter on the other side of the bridge, and only had time to grab Roman and sprint towards an abandoned truck up ahead before the two helicopters opened fire simultaneously.

For a few agonising seconds Niko felt the bullets fly past, the harsh thud of the helicopter blades mixed with the high pitched clatter of the heavy machine guns and dull cracks of the NOOSE trooper's weaponry. He saw a man, clutching a small child to his chest, disappear in a blast of crimson and a howl of pain as he attempted to take cover behind a blood stained taxi, whilst a police officer, screaming and shouting at the NOOSE that he was 'one of them' took a rifle bullet to the face. Then Roman was pulling him, shouting inaudibly as he threw him into the back of the Cluckin' Bell truck and slam the doors shut behind them.

They lay; face down, on the cold metal in the pitch black amongst boxes of rotten meat and cold fries as gunfire continued to clatter outside. For a second Niko heard the boom of shotguns and handguns, as if some of the survivors were fighting back, before they were replaced by screams of pain and the smack of bullets on flesh. Then the only sound was the moaning of the undead, growing ever closer.

"Fuck this." Niko spat. "I would rather get shot to pieces than torn apart."

It looked like Roman was about to protest, but he only pushed himself off the floor, tears in his eyes, and nodded.

"Let's face our deaths like men then."

Niko nodded, clutching his Desert Eagle to him. Moving to the door he heard the sounds of the undead even louder and, turning to look at Roman one more time, kicked the door open and started firing into the mob of zombies shambling towards them, even as the horde was struck in the sides by the gunfire from the helicopters.

"To the gates!" Niko ordered and the two men half ran, half stumbled onward, gasping for air. He saw the helicopters circling overhead, both door gunners firing down into the zombies below now, and for a second caught a glimpse of a sniper sat in the cabin, weapon aimed straight at Niko as his finger tightened on the trigger.

* * *

Aboard the NOOSE helicopter 'Ultra Vector', the aircraft circling above the two men on the bridge, Captain Lance Masterson, the commander of the Algonquin Bridge Quarantine Zone, known, slightly ironically as 'the Salvation Gates', aimed his sniper rifle down at the two men. His orders were simple, and it didn't matter how much he respected these two men, who had been the only ones to survive the NOOSE helicopter barrage. He nodded at the rest of his men on their side of the craft, who all aimed their own guns downward.

"Bring us in lower." He snapped at the pilot. He at least wanted to give these two brave men a clean death, not some messy end at the hands of their .50 calibre Browning machine guns.

* * *

Niko watched the helicopter fly right alongside them now, just off the edge of the bridge, the snipers readying their weapons.

The two men braced themselves for the inevitable but kept running, even though they knew those towering gates would never open for them.

Niko turned to face the helicopter and saw the horde, still swarming after them despite the hail of fire from both the helicopters and the snipers above the police gates ahead. He aimed his gun behind him as he ran; ready to take down as many as he could before he was torn to shreds. The zombies were catching up now, the undead dogs at the front now joined by the scuttling zombies. Bracing himself, he watched the horde gaining, the gates up ahead only twenty or so metres away. Then the horde split and Niko saw some still shamble after him and Roman, whilist the rest went left.

"The helicopter." Roman said as he watched with his eyes wide and they kept running, as the helicopter, gunners still blasting away, hovered low to their left. The zombie horde, moaning and howling like animals, came at a mad run, many falling to the hail of gunfire and slumping to the tarmac as the others ran on. It wasn't enough though. As the pilot only just realised the doom they faced and attempted to move away, the horde jumped. Many fell to the waters below or were shot down by the NOOSE team aboard, but Niko could see the zombies hanging onto the sides, hear the screams of the crew aboard being torn apart, and the two men watched as the helicopter, smoke rising from its rear engine as a zombie fell into the tail rotor, spiralled and turned madly above them, careening with a scream of engines straight ahead, and into the left gates of the bridge blockade.

For a second Niko only saw the flames rising up and the steel gate breaking apart with a wrenching crash, but then there was a dull thump of an explosion and he watched in horror as part of the wall fell, sending the police officers atop it to their doom.

Then there was no time to look, and the zombies were already charging forward, the frantic officers beyond firing as the undead advanced. Putting one last burst of effort in, Roman and Niko sprinted the last few metres and clambering over the wrecked remains of the wall, the flames dangerously close. They were greeted by cries of fear, anger and some cheers and Niko saw glimpses of a huge crowd, a line of riot police which rushed past to defend the breach and a whole host of news vans, police and NOOSE vehicles, and fire engines and ambulances before he was tackled by a group of police officers in gas masks.

"Get him down!" the leader ordered, voice muffled by the heavy duty mask but his squad paused as a low moaning and snarling pierced the air.

At the wall, standing on unsteady feet between tangled corpses and rubble, a lone zombie stood, swaying slightly. For a second there was silence except for the rumble of traffic in the distance and Roman shouting at the officers holding him down on the bonnet of a police cruiser.

Then the zombie howled.

With a thundering roar a horde of undead shambled out from behind, swarming over the barricade and stumbling forward with moans and animalistic snarls. Niko felt the weight on him disappear and heard the officers run towards the collapsed gates, drawing their sidearms and shouting orders. As he stood up the riot police formed up, their steel ballistic shields forming a wall across the entire street as other officers fired from behind them, the crowd beyond only watching on wide eyed, a few cheering as the police prepared to face the undead.

As he staggered to his feet, his head ringing from where it had impacted the tarmac, Niko watched the horde breaking against the line of police, the dull thump of heavy riot batons against undead flesh ringing through the street, whilst a police Maverick hovering overhead poured sniper fire and grenades into the dead pouring through the breached wall. It wasn't enough. Even as Roman ran towards him, grinning from ear to ear despite the undead only metres away, as he half dragged, half carried the laughing form of Mallorie along with him, Brucie running up and enveloping Niko in a crushing bear hug, he continued to watch the scene beyond. Amongst the undead spilling through the wall in a wave of grey flesh stumbled a group of half a dozen thickset zombies, much wider and broader than the rest, a few dressed in LCPD riot armour. With a dull roar the bruisers charged, heads down and stumbling forward at a fast jog.

Although a few fell to the gunfire from the officers on the road, when the rest struck it was like a dam had been broken and a flood let forth. The riot police were swept aside and swallowed up as a tidal wave of undead rushed past, falling upon the crowd beyond in a tide of blood and screams.

Niko didn't have to think twice as he ran down the road, glancing back to see that the others were following, Roman clutching Mallorie to him and Brucie bringing up the rear, gun in both hands as he ran on. Behind them the police were now opening up from all sides, the crack of pistols and dull thud of assault rifles echoing along the street and mixing with the screams of the crowd being torn apart. There were others running alongside, many displaying bite wounds or covered in blood, whilist traffic on the roads swerved aside or simply ploughed into the crowds of people and undead alike. With a blast of horns two NOOSE tanks swept past, smashing aside parked cars and undead stumbling up the road as they fired their cannons directly into the horde. Niko could already see the undead pouring across the street, shambling down every side lane and back alley as they pursued their prey.

Up ahead loomed a crude barricade of white LCPD cruisers, officers firing their pistols and rifles straight into the crowds as the Maverick seemed to be hovering at head height as the officers aboard raked the road with gunfire.

"This way!" Niko bellowed and ducked into a small alley, homeless men and dozing drunks alike watching on with glazed eyes as the small group swept past, seconds before the pursuing undead tore them apart. Turning briefly Niko, Roman and Brucie all fired their guns behind them before running on, the undead thrown back by the bullets and painting the walls either side with splashes of crimson.

Sprinting to catch up Niko and the other two emerged, breathless, from the dim gloom of the alley into a huge open street, two lanes of gridlocked morning traffic crossing in the middle as dozens of bright billboards and signs adorned the hundred metre high skyscrapers on all side.

"Star Junction." Niko aid to himself softly, allowing himself a moment to catch his breath before he ran after the others, ducking and dodging through the gaudy yellow taxis and bright sports cars as he joined them on the central traffic island, the billboards above still flashing and corporate slogans still blasting out as the moans of undead and clatter of gunfire from the bridge grew louder and closer.

"What now?" Niko demanded. "This place was supposed to be fucking safe!" he said with and sighed and shook his head.

"Mallorie, is your apartment safe?" Roman asked as Niko only stood to one side, gun in hand, listening to the approaching howls of the undead.

"For now." She answered simply. "Me and Kate do…"

At that name Niko turned on his heel, his eyes wide.

"Shit Kate's here!" he said, a faint glimmer of happiness in his cold grey eyes which Roman found strange. He had never seen his cousin so much as smile before now. It felt almost out of character. But the way Niko turned, a grim smile on his face as a group of police cars and NOOSE vans tore past behind, the same look Roman had seen whenever anyone or anything had threatened his family, put hope in Roman once more.

But then he saw a literal wave of undead spill out from Konzite Street from the bridge and into the morning traffic. All he could see now were people running, screaming as snarling undead brought them down, cars being clambered over by whole packs of undead dogs whilst the zombie horde continued to issue forth, overwhelming the few squads of police with sheer numbers. As a police cruiser tore past, sirens blaring, a group of undead women in ragged cocktail dresses clinging onto the sides, Niko calmly turned to the others, the smile still on his face as the Burger Shot up the street went up in flames, sending a stalled bus onto its side and crushing a group of fleeing citizens.

"My apartment is only a few miles to the north. If we get there fast we can outrun these undead fuckers. First though, we get Kate."

And with that he was running, the others falling into step behind him, shooting down any undead that came near. By the time they had made it out of Star Junction, the moans of newly reanimated undead was echoing across the packed street filled with officer workers stampeding out from their workplaces whilst police vehicles and ambulances sped past, a NOOSE van simply smashing aside any stalled traffic as they rushed towards the sounds of gunfire and sirens in the distance.

Niko ignored it all, only glanced at the helicopters buzzing overhead, a few of which were armed with rocket pods ,which he recognised as the new NOOSE 'Little Bird' gunships that had appeared ever since those ridiculous reports of a gold attack helicopter a few months back. Yet even he joined in the collective gasp of astonishment from the crowds around him as those same helicopters began to fire down into the city beyond, the roar of explosions beyond making the ground shake.

He sped up, making sure the others were right behind him as the crowd began to bunch up around a police checkpoint made of three cruisers and an ambulance behind, officers already laying out barbed wire and sandbags and stopping the traffic with raised rifles. As they waited in line while the officers, all wearing gas masks now, checked for any wounds or bites, Niko heard a single message being constantly repeated over the radio of the nearest squad car.

"This is an emergency message from LCPD command to all officers in the Algonquin area. The Algonquin Bridge has fallen and other bridge defences are being overrun as we speak. Fall back to Position Sierra Zulu and await further orders. The city has been overrun. I repeat. The city has been overrun."


	12. Chapter 12- Ghosts of the Past

**11****th**** April 2008**

**10:35pm Algonquin, Liberty City**

**(127 hours quarantine remaining)**

Twelve hours. That's how long Niko and the others had sat in his gloomy apartment, listening to the death throes of Algonquin. All day there had been nonstop gunfire, the whir of helicopters and scream of sirens, echoing over the silent skyscrapers of the island. Outside ,the street lights had been steadily flickering out one by one, the only light the five metre high funeral pyre of dozens of undead corpses, police officers in gas masks watching silently, the blue and red light from their vehicles glinting off mask lenses and weaponry.

Staring out of the window, his pale grey eyes filled with doubt and sorrow, Niko's mind was haunted with images of fire and death after their escape from the undead hordes, the moan of the zombies and the screams of their victims echoing around his head in one horrific assault upon his senses. And yet it wasn't just the images of the blood-stained undead and the corpses of civilians in the street, killed by patrolling LCPD helicopters in an attempt to halt the infection that made him so afraid. It was the memories.

He had tried to supress them, but his memories of the war in his homeland still haunted him.

The graves filled with blackened corpses, the men and women swinging from crude scaffolds or lying by the roadside, riddled with bullets by passing patrols. All of those he had seen, not on the battlefields and war torn landscapes of Eastern Europe, but the 'civilised' streets of Liberty City. As they had driven through Middle Park, Roman sobbing into Mallorie while Brucie stared blank faced at the crowds of people trampling each other outside in their haste to escape, Niko had seen the police firing from the roof of the Libertonian Museum. It hadn't just been assault rifles and handguns either. There had been grenades and high powered rifle rounds thudding overhead as he steered them onwards, ignoring the screams of civilians and howls of the undead on all sides. And as he raced through the stalled traffic and running crowds, his mind had flashed back to a similar scene, as he and the two other survivors of his unit had sped away from the massacre in their home village, bullets slamming around them, before falling at the feet of a group of bored looking UN peacekeepers.

They had barely been boys back then, and for a few seconds Niko had felt the same fears as his younger self had felt, the fear of his enemies, the fear of what horrific death he faced and the fear of the gun at his side. He was a man now though, and the rusty AK which a scruffy army sergeant in a ragged uniform had thrust into his hands before that fateful day back in Europe was probably rusting somewhere in the forest where he had left it, too scared to keep it on him in case the local militia hanged him for being an enemy soldier. He instinctively reached for the cold form of the rifle on the table in front of him, a sleek modern M16 rifle a dead mounted policeman had still been clutching when he tore it from his cold hands, even as the officer's horse, undead and covered in blood and gaping bullet holes, tore into him. If the ghosts of the past were going to come back, he thought, this time he would be ready.

The room was lit only by the dim flicker of the bonfire outside and the harsh white light from the naked bulbs overhead. Although this apartment, originally owned by Niko's one time business partner, Playboy X, was well stocked with both weaponry and provisions and was a few stories up from the streets crawling with undead and police death squads below, nobody in the small group that sat around the faded green pool table felt in any way safe.

Brucie was out on the large rooftop balcony, cradling an AK in his hand and watching the helicopters hovering above the city outside and the distant explosions as the south of the island was carpet-bombed by the LCPD's small fleet of Little Bird gunships. Roman was sat, head in his hands, in the corner, while Kate absently surfed the internet from Niko's laptop, hoping to find any sort of information on what was happening outside.

The last thing Niko remembered seeing before they had barricaded themselves here was the lines of refugees hurrying past, grim faced officers in riot gear and gas masks hefting assault rifles as they ran in the opposite direction, and above it all, mixed with the crackle of gunfire and whir of helicopters, the dull moans of the approaching hordes.

"How's the supply situation cousin?" he asked Roman, hoping to take his mind off his dark memories and thoughts, moving his hand away from the M16 in front of him and standing up, feeling the slight crack of his legs after so long sat in one place. "Because I doubt we can get any sort of scavenging done until the cops outside finish their little bonfire."

Roman laughed humourlessly as he looked up.

"How can you be so casual man?" he said, shaking his head as he moved past Niko and into the small kitchen area. "We saw so many terrible things out there and all you care about is whether we need to raid the local Burger Shot for supplies? What the fuck happened to you man?"

"The apocalypse happened cousin…" Niko said softly and turned away to look out towards the balcony, Mallorie and Kate looking on blankly as Roman sighed.

"I mean generally man. Back when we were kids you were such an optimist. Next thing I know you're putting bullets in people's heads like its fucking normal!"

Niko turned his eyes grey and emotionless.

"I'll tell you what happened, cousin… I saw all of my friends die in front of me before I was barely out of school. I was conscripted to fight in a war I had no understanding of and made to kill other boys while my comrades raped and looted every single village we came across. While you were cowering at your family's farm I was watching children being shot in the streets and women being raped as a military tactic. Do you think I give a fuck what happens to this city or anyone in it after what horrors I've seen? Compared to our homeland and the soldiers I encountered these zombies are nothing. So, I ask you this one thing…cousin. Why should I care?"

Roman's punch was so unexpected it forced Niko to the ground, blood pouring from his nose and pooling in small droplets on the scuffed wood floor. He didn't even consider fighting back until he felt his cousin's foot slam into his ribs and force him onto his front, winded. He didn't hear Mallorie and Kate's shouts, only glanced at Brucie as he dropped his gun and rushed towards them. The only thing that he had eyes for were the blows his cousin rained upon him, and the words that cut into him deeper than any physical attack could have.

"Monster!" his cousin roared. "Psychopath! Fucked up!"

Then Roman stopped, breathing heavily as Brucie grabbed him from behind and held him back. He looked down at Niko lying, bruised and battered on the floor, and only sighed. His rage was obvious though, as he spoke again, his voice soft and level.

"You wouldn't even care if all of us were dead."

That's when Niko stood up.

For a second Brucie stepped towards him, shaking his head and holding his hands up to ward him off doing anything rash. But he didn't move as he stood up, only smiled slightly.

"That's the only lie you've said Roman." He said simply. "I may be a monster but I will never, ever, let anything happen to those I care about. Because you guys are the only thing stopping me going down an even darker path…" he added and grabbed the M16 from the table and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" Roman said his eyes wide at this sudden revelation. He had never heard his cousin speak so frankly and honestly before.

Niko grinned.

"I'm going to show you I mean what I said. I'm getting us out of this city…"


End file.
